LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



1 ^W- 



3helf.lR.'*.U&. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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A/ 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 



ODD HOURS 



BEING THE 



VAGARIES OF A COUNTRY EDITOR 



By M. C. RUSSELL. 



ALSO. AS AN APPENDIX, 



PROCTOR KNOTT'S FAMOUS SPEECH 
ON DULUTH. 1— 



DULUTH, MINN.: 

Compiled and Published by Miss Susie M Russell 

1882. 




T& 2// 4*^ 



Entered according- to Act of Congress, in the Year 1882. 

By M. C. RUSSELL, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washingtoi 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



A Remark by the Author. 

— t — 

This is the first book with which we have ever afflict- 
ed a patient public. If any one doubts this statement, 
we commend him to a careful perusal of its pages. 
The author is not " stuffed up " with the idea that this 
is the first book ever published, — excepting in the Ze- 
nith City,— nor that it is destined to work a revolution 
in the domestic affairs of the human family. Nor do 
we anticipate that its sale, when placed on the market, 
will exceed " Robinson Crusoe," the " Pilgrim's Prog- 
ress," "Uncle Tom's Cabin," "Innocents Abroad" 
and " Aesop's Fables," all combined. In fact, we have 
no assurance that it will equal in general circulation any 
one of these works. But, we dare to hope that enough 
of them will be wanted by a charitable public to enable 
us to pay the binder for his " lids " and the paper-mak- 
er for his trouble in turning out the sheets. The bill 
for type-setting and printing is already honestly adjust- 
ed, because we did it ourself, — that is, a member of the 
" Dudley " tribe did it, — during " odd hours:' Whether 
we shall ever publish another book, or whether we shall 
ever produce a second edition of this one, remains, prin- 
cipally, with the present generation to say. If we find 
that the people actually suffer for more, it might be just 
like the author to comply with a clamor of that kind. 
For the present, however, this book will have to stand 
as our monument, and in all probability it will mark the 
literary resting place of an ambitious but mightily mis- 
taken book-maker, in the person of 

Your sympathetic friend, 

Uncle Dudley. 



THIS IJTTLE BOOK LS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

TO MY FRIENDS. 



M. C Rwssell. 



CONTENTS 

— § — 



Page. 

Being Funny, 7 

As a Hay-Maker 10 

Cotton as a Cargo, 14 

Brothers and Sisters 17 

How Small We Are , 19 

Evening z\ 

On the Ice, 23 

Time Is Money, 26 

The Cat 28 

How to Begin on a New Farm, 32 

Too Many Subjects, 36 

An Explanation, 40 

How Is It? 42 

May Baskets \ 43 

Colts, 44 

The Birch Canoe, 46 

A Revery, 48 

Buying a Cow 50 

The Farm Fever 54 

A Real Trouble, 55 

Pic-nic-ing, 58 

Killing Wolves ■ 6a 

Rocking the Cradle 66 

The Season has Begun, ... 68 

Home, Sweet Home 71 

Christmas Gifts 73 

Teaching School 76 

The Birds Have Gone, 81 

Charming, 82 

Hunting Hens' Nests, 84 



Page. 

The Old Man 87 

The Old Woman 90 

A Little Child 92 

Echoes 94 

The Preacher's Visit 97 

Indian Sugar, (verse,) 101 

Night Voices, (verse,) 102 

A Poet Wrecked, 104 

Dogs, and Things, 109 

A Close Call, 112 

Your Right-hand Pocket... 115 

Slaves to Fashion, 117 

Meeting a Chair, 120 

Answers to Correspondents, 122 

They're All Alike 127 

The Woad-Bucker, 129 

The " Yaller " Horse 130 

An Egg 132 

Tough Stories, 134 

The Old Settler 135 

Riding on an Ice-boat, .... 137 

Hunting Prairie Chickens, 140 

Marrying for Money 142 

How We Farmed 143 

Things Have Changed, 147 

Nature's Decay 149 

Three Old Gentlemen 151 

A Quiet Walk 156 

High Gates 158 

Washing Day 160 



CONTENTS. 



Page, 
An Editor As a Deer-Hunter, 162 



A Stroll, 

Our Ambitions, , 

Learning to Milk, 

Collecting, 

Affectation 

A Printer's Revery, 

Whiskey for a Cold, 

A Government Mule, . . ■ 

A Chat With a Boy, 

Holding a Cigar, 

A Test of Patience, 

Being a Family Man, . . . 
Gathering Wild Cats, . . . 
A Canine Discussion, . . . 
Going for the Bull's Eye 
Primer Lesson, 



166 
168 
171 
174 
176 
179 



,89 
190 
192 
194 
198 
200 
203 

APPENDIX: 

Hon. J. Proctor Knott's Famous Speech on Duluth 



Fighting a Garden Rake, . . 

Ridiculous Suiciding 

Torn Dignity, 

"Lo!" Diet, 

Putting Down a Carpet, . . . 
The Autumn Woodland, . . . 

On the Wave, (verse,) 

Gloom, (verse,) 

Dot's Visit to Fairy Land, 
In the Twenty-fifth Century, 
Johnny Cutting — a True Tale, 
Jones and the Hornets, . . . 
"Aunt Zebby's"Two Letters 
An Early-Day Western Trip, 

Fly-Time 

The Night-Prayer, 



Page, 
204 
206 
209 
211 
215 
218 
220 
221 
222 
225 
235 
249 
254 
259 
278 
281 




" Hoo-hoo-hoo ! " is all he says — night-murder, all he knows ; 

His wise-like stare 'mongst men is found, but ignorance, only shows. 



Uncle Dudley's 
ODD HOURS 

( By a Country Editor.) 



BEING FUNNY. 




EVER strive to be witty, young man, unless 
JMsure you can make a success of it ; for, an at- 
tempt at wit, followed by failure, is a most hu- 
miliating defeat, indeed. Most young persons — par- 
ticularly young men, have a strong desire to ap- 
pear as " wits ; " to shine above those around them, as 
possessing brighter intellects ; in short, as being a little 
smarter than anybody else. To become a Mark Twain, 
an Artemus Ward, a Doesticks, or a Nasby, is an object 
praiseworthy enough ; and, it is ail right to try yourself a 
little, for the purpose of finding out whether you possess 
the elements of a wit, and a humorist ; nevertheless, all 
the tests necessary in ascertaining whether you have 
" got it in you " should be conducted strictly in private, 
for a considerable length of time, and the tests should 
be made very severe. Up in a hay-loft, or down in the 
most secluded corner of a coal-cellar, or in some retired 
portion of a calf- pasture, can be reckoned on as safe lo- 
calities in which to begin. When you imagine you 
have " struck the soul to a good thing," just retire at 

2 



8 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

once to your retreat, and commence developing it ; say 
it over a number of times, just as it first came into your 
mind, and if you find that you have to laugh every time 
you repeat it, you can note progress ; and if, after say- 
ing it over four or five hundred times, you laugh more 
heartily every time, then you may consider it a fair spec- 
imen of humor, out of which a two-line joke may some 
time be " panned ;" and if, in addition to this, you dream 
about it every night, for a month, so that you are com- 
pelled to get up out of bed and laugh until your sides 
ache, ending in a spasmodic fit of hiccoughs, it will then 
be safe to write it out privately, and put carefully away, 
where no one will find it, for future reference. But, too 
much care cannot be taken to keep your jokes and fu- 
ture intentions a secret, lest you be ridiculed, and be- 
come discouraged from having your sensibilities hurt, 
and your ambition drowned in ice- water, thrown by 
ruthless hands. 

After you have accumulated several thousand " good 
things," to draw from in emergencies during your future 
career as a humorist — for, once " funny " you will be 
expected to always continue so until gathered in by old 
Time, — you may venture to offer some of the best sam- 
ples for publication in the village paper, provided it has 
but a small circulation ; for, you must be careful not to 
gain too much publicity at first, so that if your effort is 
badly received, there will not be so many to receive it. 
After this trial, nature will take its course, and if you 
are not too thin-skinned, and can stand a good deal of 
solid grief, you will doubtless succeed in attracting some 
public attention and favorable comment by the time you 



ODD HOURS. 9 

reach an age when your head will resemble a soap- 
bubble, or your hair, a tow- wad — provided it transpires 
that you actually contain a mine of native humor. — 
Otherwise, of course, you will sink under a load of dis- 
appointment ; recline under the shadow of a great sor- 
row, and probably end your days as conductor of a 
wheel barrow, on the grade, or the superintendent of a 
coal-cart. So, young man, whilst it may be an easy 
matter for any one to become a congressman, you must 
reckon well the chances, before you aspire to the exalt- 
ed throne of a humorist. We feel all this, because we 
have been there. During our " infant manhood " we 
accumulated a vast store of wit, reduced to writing, and 
looked forward through rosy glasses to the time when 
we would publicly open the flood-gates of our humor- 
ous soul and inundate a sorrowing world with a burst of 
laughter. The choicest item was submitted to an editor 
of more than average erudition ; he examined it criti- 
cally ; when through, he turned sharply and asked if 
the article was intended to be a humorous one ; we nod- 
ded our guilt, when he replied : " Young man, you 
would not make a humorous writer, if you lived a thous- 
and years, and worked ten hours a day at nothing else 
— if this is a fair sample of your talent in that direction." 
That settled our " humorous hash." By a heroic phys- 
ical effort, we made out to reach the open air, where 
we could cool off, and feel of our head, when we found, 
sure enough, that the " bump of wit " was an inverted 
one, and was a yawning hollow, instead of an able-bod- 
ied protuberance. We have never since tried to write 
anything more laughable than a death-notice, or an epi- 



io UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

taph for the tomb-stone of some departed delinquent, 
who never paid the printer. These we write well. 




AS A HAY-MAKER. 



grass had become intolerably high round 
about our domicil, and the cow was "out of 
meat ;" hence, we purchased a scythe. A lawn- 
mower is too new a contrivance to be recognized by 
any one having old-fashioned tastes, and so we straight- 
way went for the good old tool of our daddies. We 
never had interviewed a scythe before, and had our 
foresight at that time been as acute as our present 
hindsight, we should not have interviewed it then. A 
scythe seems to be made up of crookedness and fiend- 
ishness, mixed in about equal parts ; and, how a man is 
expected to go straight at his work, behind one of them, 
is a little in advance of any mathematical knowledge we 
happen to have on hand. We cannot imagine that any 
man living can manipulate one of them successfully ex- 
cept he be a cross-eyed person ; a really cross-eyed man 
might be able to get in his work where it was wanted ; 
but, if all scythe-handles are as crooked as the one we 
have — and which we now desire to give away — we have 
shekels that say that no straight-looking person can cut 
down the grass he wants to cut, unless he strikes at 
some object in the next lot, or else throws it around the 



ODD HOURS. ir 

corner of the house and then runs the other way. You 
might as well try to drive a tack with a ram's horn — it 
isn't in it 

What made our defeat too humiliating for anything 
was, we had been lecturing our young descendants dur- 
ing the breakfast hour, upon the nobility of labor, and 
also upon the wickedness of running after every new 
thing that came out to lessen the labors performed by 
our forefathers j that we used a scythe instead of a lawn 
mower, as a matter of principle, and after breakfast we 
would show them how their lamented grandfather mow- 
ed his hay, and how their Maker intended hay should 
be mown— and didn't want they should ever become so 
averse to labor, or so filled with pride, as to counten- 
ance the use of a horsepower machine, or a sacriligious 
lawn-mower, in the performance of this ancient and hon- 
orable branch of labor. 

After the frugal breakfast, we adjusted our hat and, 
followed by the family procession, went out where the 
tool was suspended in a plum-tree, whistling our favor- 
ite opera, " The conquering hero comes." It took us 
some time to get it down, but finally it commenced 
coming, arid we ran out from under and let it fall 
just where it had a mind to. The boys laughed a 
little, but pretty soon it quit flopping around, and we 
advanced cautiously and got it by the tail, and one of 
the handles, and lifted it off the ground ; it sort of swung 
around and came near cutting our left limb, pretty high 
up ; we told the boys they'd better climb up on the 
fence till we were under way and got the " hang " of it 
a little. We finally captured it by both the handles, 



12 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

carried it up to the edge of the grass, swelled our mus- 
cle and gave it a tremendous swing ; it went skylarking 
through the trackless air above the tall grass, and cut 
off a fine plum-tree around behind us ; and, had we not 
let go all holds and dodged out through one of the 
crooks, and made the top of the fence just ahead of it, 
no doubt we should now have been running about with- 
out a head. The boys laughed immoderately, and we 
reproved them severely for making light of so serious a 
toil. After the establishment had quieted down again, 
we advanced on the crookedest side, and grasping it 
simultaneously by both handles, held it out at arm's 
length to find its chief center of gravity ; soon, we seem- 
ed to have it, and made another pass at the luxuriant 
pasture ; this time, the point of the scythe went into the 
ground halfway to the handle, and the tail-end kicked 
us on the left ear and one of the handles vibrated vigor- 
ously against our stomach and we sat down to hold it 
where it ached the worst. The boys laughed so hyster- 
ically that they fell off the fence, and our ear swelled 
up like a blighted plum. We made just one more effort 
to " conquer or die ;" the scythe skipped around, cut 
a little row of grass, flipped off to the left, cutting a fa- 
vorite rose-bush off close, then took a circle around o'er- 
head and brought up with a fearful crash and buned 
itself in a fence-board, whilst we sprang out through 
the " twist," ran into the house and locked the door. — 
Note — If anybody wants one of those grass-tools of 
our daddies, we hope he will come around and get that 
thing out of the lot, ere it wipes the tribe of Dudley 
from the face of the earth. It will be found to be a cap- 



ODD HOURS. 13 

ital thing to set in the front yard for tramps ; if a tramp 
ever came into the yard, and the thing was properly 
set, all that would remain to do would be to take a bas- 
ket and go out and gather up the pieces and give them 
a decent burial. 

P. S. — Wanttd—K lawn-mower. 



To turn the grindstone, saw wood, carry a hod, 
and work, are the greatest vexations of life — unless it 
may be a mop-stick with an infuriated woman at the 
bad end of it. 



"Was Peter ever in Rome?" is a question that 
has for a long time been agitating the minds of the 
Catholic and Protsetant clergy. We know of no way 
to settle the dispute, but suggest that they send a dele- 
gate to Rome, with instructions to interview the oldest 
inhabitant, and look over the old poll-lists and hotel 
registers. 



There is a man from Pennsylvania, now out on 
the Northern Pacific hunting to find a moose, whole, 
and an elk, whole. If he fails, and passes east this way, 
we shall endeavor to furnish our naturalist friend an 
able-bodied gopher-hole, or two, or a rat-hole, so that 
his western trip may not prove altogether a failure. 
They already have oil-holes and gimlet-holes in Penn- 
sylvania. 



U UNCLE DUDLEY'S 




COTTON AS A CARGO. 




UR domestic circle concluded the other day to 
( make up a lot of bed- comfortables, and so, sent 
their venerable " Uncle " to the store lor twen- 
ty-five pounds of cotton-batting. We informed the 
storekeeper what was wanted, and he asked what we 
had brought to haul it home in. We told him that if 
twenty-five pounds of cotton-batting wasn't any heavier 
than twenty-five pounds of anything else, we thought 
ourself man enough to worry it along on our shoulder. 
To assure him that there was no need of his doubting 
as to our carrying capacity, we began telling him of a 
few things we had done, as he proceeded to take down 
the cotton and pile the rolls up on the floor. Among 
other things, we assured him we had carried a bed-tick 
full of No. i wheat up three flights of stairs and then 
stood around an hour or so with it on our shoulder ; 
that, when in the army, we once carried a sick soldier 
and his baggage, together with the company's camp- 
kettles and a bushel and a half of rice, forty-five miles, 
on a forced march, without stopping to eat or drink, be- 
side pulling upward of a dozen mules out of the mud as 
we went along ; we also told him several other things 
we had done, among which was, that we had once lift- 



ODD HOURS. 15 

ed the corner of a two story log house and held it up 
until a man, who had lost his jack-knife through a crack 
in the floor, crawled under and got it. Of course, 
these stories were somewhat exaggerated, but that man 
needed to be convinced that we could tote twenty-five 
pounds of cotton-batting, and he needed it badly. 

About this time we noticed that he had nearly a 
wagon-load of rolls piled up on the floor, and we told 
him he was lorgetting himself — that we only wanted 
twenty-five pounds. He said no, he hadn't more than 
fifteen pounds yet, and went on taking it down from the 
top shelf. We walked around the pile, and made the 
observation that cotton-batting must be very light to 
the pound. He answered that it was tolerably light. 
We didn't say anything for a minute or two, but began 
to feel rather uneasy as the pile grew to a size that it 
would require a hay-rack to haul it away. Finally we 
told him we didn't think we wanted so much — that the 
weather seemed to be getting warmer, and our folks 
could make the comfortables a little thinner, and use 
them for comfortables in the summer and for sheets in 
the winter. But he insisted that we called for twenty- 
five pounds ; that he had got it pretty nearly all taken 
down, and he wasn't in the habit of working for noth- 
ing. We saw we were beaten on that pile, and badly 
beaten, and finally effected a compromise by paying him 
a dollar for his trouble, and buying five pounds instead 
of the quantity originally ordered ; even then, we had 
about as soon have tried to carry off a bed-tick full of 
Northern Pacific No. 1 hard wheat, as that cotton. As 
we took our blushing departure, that cotton-vendor sort 

3 



16 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

of grinned out of the corner of his mouth, as he said: 
" Come down some time, ' Uncle/ and spend the eve- 
ning, and tell us some more stories about how much 
you can carry, on an average." We said " yes," and 
then slid around the corner underneath our cotton, and 
upon arriving home, told our folks the next time they 
wanted twenty-five pounds of cotton-batting, not to take 
us for a caravan or a hippodrome, or there would be 
trouble among the animals. 



When we see a neatly-dressed, refined and intelli- 
gent-looking lady, traveling on the cars, and occupying 
her time in knitting — whilst a score of other females are 
passing away the hours in the most frivolous gossip and 
pastimes — we kind of chalk her down as one of God's 
noble-women who escaped at the time of the apparent 
general destruction; of her class. We actually saw such 
a woman a few days ago, improbable as it may seem. 

The seison of spring has bloomed again. The 
shout of " dubbs ! " and " knuckle tight ! " is again heard 
floating on the ambient air ; the croquet mauls will soon 
be bumping the balls ; the hens have begun their annu- 
al labors, and the " roosters " are all on edge for a fight. 
House-cleaning and raking up the yards are among the 
house- wife's specialties. The excitements of the chase 
are again being enjoyed — chasing bedbugs out of one 
crack into another. Yes, spring has arrived, and we 
perspire copiously when we reflect upon the vast deal 
of hard labor that is to be performed — by others. 



ODD HOURS, 



n 




BROTHERS AND SISTERS. 




ERE they to be the last words of advice we 
.could give, they could be of no more serious 
import than to implore brothers and sisters, 
whilst together under the parental roof, to be loving and 
indulgent to one another; to bear with one another's 
shortcomings, and instead of chiding and wrangling, 
embrace the dear forms of those whom, from every nat- 
ural and divine tie, you should love and protect, as you 
would the tender flower in the months of winter. Think 
for a moment, dear little friends, that the association 
you will be permitted to enjoy together, with your little 
brothers and sisters at home, is but a brief period at the 
most ; when you are tempted to feel aggrieved at them, 
just stop a moment and think : " Why should I allow 
my temper — my bad disposition — to convert what 
should be happy moments, into a time of vexatious con- 
tention, by which my own heart is hardened and seared, 
and by which my acts and words may make a dark and 
callous impression for the bad upon the tender heart of 
my dear little brother or sister, that may last all through 
his or her life — even changing the character and place 
of their saddened graves at the end of all." These lit- 



18 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

tie darlings are soon to start upon the rugged, thorny 
path of life's journey, all alone, save being accompanied 
by the sweet or bitter recollections of their home life 
and their trust or distrust in God's protecting care, and 
in the love of their brothers and sisters who loved and 
counseled, or who contended with, and hated them 
during the tender years of childhood. Oh, my little 
friends, remember that when parents sleep in the grave, 
and are powerless to comfort you, the best and only 
true earthly friends you have left are your brothers and 
sisters, if they have lived true to their duty as such. 
Remember that there is no sadder, no more serious 
thought that can come to your minds than the one, 
" What is to be the future of this tender little brother or 
sister ? Let it be a sad or joyful journey, I am now 
bound, by the grace of God, to do my whole duty by 
them, in the brief space given me, to indellibly impress 
upon their minds the fact that I love them perfectly." 
Such a resolution faithfully and resolutely carried out, 
will not .only brighten your own soul and heart, but will 
in the future dark, tempestuous hours of your brother's 
or sister's life, appear like a sweet angel of peace, in 
their memory to strengthen and buoy them up in a sea 
that, with no such fond proof of love to cling to, might 
overwhelm and drift them to a speedy and a hopeless 
destruction. Oh, little friends, remember that the pres- 
ent is a golden time in life ; let naught but love and en- 
couragement exist among you ; so that when you come 
to separate at the door of the parental home, each can 
carry with him the assurance that, though distant lands 
may intervene and divide you, the pure and life-tried 



ODD HOURS. 19 

love is whole, ample and sincere, and such as will prove 
an anchor of hope, and a buoy that will land you safely 
at last in that haven beyond the sky where the pure love 
of life shall be doubly purified, and go on through all 
eternity. 




HOW SMALL WE ARE. 

!*■ 

F A MAN wants to realize how insignificant 
he is, and how insignificant are all things here 
below, in fact, let him scale one of the high 
hills in the vicinity, and look down — then look up. 
Let him attain the very peak therof, and gaze down 
upon the cleft and troublous world, and reflect upon 
what he sees. A monster globe of land and water with 
human ants running, craze-brained, hither and thither 
over its surface ; and, ant-like, rearing their castles up 
ward only to be despoiled and ruined by the heel of 
Time. Away down there, are millions of human pig- 
mies who are wrapt about with what they esteem to be 
the great all in all, and what they call " human affairs." 
They see naught but the " mighty things " they create ; 
they hear naught save the praises they sing of them- 
selves ; they think of naught save that which pertains to 
their own aggrandisement among their kinc^. Poor, 
puny insects — animate specks of nothingness, moths of 
rolling years. They never look up to catch a glimpse 
of vastness, nor even cast a thought- toward the infinite. 



to UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

They seem not to know that their proudest piles, which 
have cost them years of toil, are as naught by the side 
of mountains that have been thrown to the clouds by a 
single quiver of Nature ; they dream that their little 
earth is all of creation, their gain is their god, and they 
worship at the shrine of the evil spirit of Mammon. 
They grovel in self-esteem, and shout defiance among 
themselves. They never realize that their world — in 
whose tiny web of tangled affairs they are hopelessly 
bound — is but a speck of matter, tottering in its transient 
rounds through space which is filled with countless 
worlds of immeasurably more importance than theirs, 
and yet the space between is measureless by all the 
powers of human calculation. Could we all, or any of 
us, even catch the faintest glimpse of our own smallness, 
we would stand abashed in the presence of our own 
reckless, thoughtless, fruitless and sinful struggle for 
prizes never reached, though we clamber over the pros-= 
trate forms of our fellows and cast our souls into the 
pool, to bridge us over to the mythical goal. 



Aunt Betsy wants us to tell her how to persuade 
her cow to let down her milk. We do not claim to be 
particularly posted on how to make a stubborn cow al- 
low her milk to flow, but you might try having one of 
the boys draw a buck-saw gently across her back just 
when ycm get a good hold on the teats ; we cannot ex- 
actly tell what the result would be, but are of the opin- 
ion that something would " come down," which would 
certainly be some satisfaction, you know. 



ODD HOURS. 



21 




EVENING. 




S WE sit in the door-yard this quiet August 
Levening, a strange silence prevails ; not a sound 
is heard, save the creaking crickets about our 
feet, or the occasional notes of the katy-did ; the sun 
has sunk behind the hills, and as it fades out of sight 
—continually painting morning splendors and evening 
sunsets in its ceaseless rounds — its last rays tinge the 
western blue with a mellow light that gives an awe-in 
spiring aspect to the silent landscape. The scene is one 
where the over-strung mind can turn from the turmoils 
of life, and peacefully contemplate the visible universe 
in one of its most enchanting moments ; all is peace ; 
all is harmony ; the troubled world seems to have lulled 
itself to repose under the soothing influence of a perfect 
serenity. Such an hour is balm to the soul, a rest to 
the weary, fretful mind; the calm that pervades the 
scene, the gentle beauty of the view, gives one a glimpse 
of the harmonious world of rest beyond the tinted sky, 
and sooths the weary heart that has long since become 
sick in the battle of life. It is the last evening of the 
week, and seems to be preparing the sympathies of Na- 
ture to accord with the character of the sacred day to 



22 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

follow. The busy week has gathered its chapter of 
events, Time has written his record, and the Past is roll- 
ing up an historic scroll as against the inspection of the 
Judgment-day, when Time shall end. The doors of the 
mart are closed, the busy shops are shut, and the fami- 
ly members are approaching the hearthstone to receive 
the parental blessing, and to lay their measure of love 
on the altar of filial affection. Oh, that this peace could 
be extended — with its beauty, its love, its forgiveness, 
its holy thoughts, its reverence and calm good will — 
over all the remaining pages of Time. How sweet the 
enjoyment of one's better nature and purer thoughts, 
when permitted to surmount the bitterness of Life's 
struggle, through the peaceful influence of such an hour 
as this. The heart-aches, the animosities, the hatreds, 
the jealousies and sinful thoughts are all forgotten and 
buried, and that inner feeling of love, forgiveness and 
kind regard for all our fellow travelers, holds the fullest 
sway within us; and our souls rest in perfect conson- 
ance with the blissful scene about us. The harmony of 
the hour is finally intensified by the sweet vesper- lay of 
the birds as they hide away among the boughs, and pay 
their good-night homage to the Author of all this glori- 
ous scene. As night draws her somber robe o'er the 
landscape, thankful humanity withdraw to their bed- 
sides and, as become the recipients of His mercy and 
blessings, bend the knee in honor of the Creator of all 
this mighty universe, and in supplication before Him 
whom we ask, in repentance, to guard us through the 
night. 



ODD HOURS. 



2 3 





ON THE ICE. 

^HE skating season, having fairly set in, and 
there being a splendid opening for a first lesson 
in the gliding art, we resolved not to let the op- 
portunity " slip " for finishing an otherwise brilliant ed- 
ucation. With this object in view, we provided ourself 
with a pair of what they called " club skates," and by 
moonlight quietly betook ourself to the lake shore where, 
already, scores of boys and girls, lads and lassies, and 
some of maturer years were enjoying the rare sport. 
Fortunately for our bashful nature, it was not so light 
but that we could keep ourselt incog.; we resolved to 
go up above the rest of the human family there assem- 
bled, and cut a few circles, and things, by way of find- 
ing our center, and after warming up to our bottom 
gait we resolved to go down through that crowd and 
show them what life on skates meant. We had never 
been on skates, but, after seeing mere infants gliding 
around in the most graceful and daring manner, it was 
not for us to doubt our ability to cut a magnificent 
swath after five minutes practice. We sat down on a 
stone and adjusted the implements, as we had been told 
to, and, after drawing our cap well over our ears and 
4 



24 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

muffling our chest and neck, and adjusting our patent 
lung protector so that the sharp air would not chill us 
as we flew through space, as we proposed to do, we got 
up on our feet — or rather on our skates. They were a 
fine pair of the " latest out," and we felt ever so much 
at home on them. We struck an attitude that betokened 
grace, and then pushed our left foot out vigorously a 
little north of west, and the other one didn't wait for 
orders — it flew around in four or five different directions 
and caught us just back of our left ear ; of course, we 
saw in an instant, that we were " whitewashed " on that 
heat, and so we reclined on our nose and went skimming 
along for a rod or so, just as it happened ; and it turned 
out to happen very unsatisfactorily. We finally got our 
nose and chin wiped off, got our legs hauled around in- 
to position and sat up. The accident was altogether 
inexplicable ; there never was a bigger, nor a more com- 
plicated disaster enacted in that length of time — it was 
the quickest work on record, we felt sure, and that was 
some satisfaction. 

We concluded there must have been some error in 
our adjustment of the skates, or else we shoved out the 
wrong leg first, or else there was something wrong some- 
where. In fact, we felt as though there was something 
wrong. A young lady just then flew past and asked if 
we were tired. We took off our hat and told her we 
were not exactly tired, but a little weary. Then we 
commenced getting mad a little bit, and resolved to 
commence skating without any further delay. We felt 
of our skates to see if they were in proper position, and 
also our nose, and then we just hopped up on our pegs, 



ODD HOURS. 25 

and, after getting our balance, pushed the right gently 
to the south'ard and fetched the left gently up to the 
wind'ard ; then the right, off on a slight quarter, and 
the left straight ahead. About this time we sat down ; 
we hadn't contemplated resting so soon, but somehow 
we did, and a pyrotechnic display greeted our vision just 
as we took our seat that was only equaled by the Aur- 
ora Borealis on a winter's night. We had sat down in 
so reckless a manner that we had bitten our tongue half 
off, and the top of our head seemed to have gone up in 
a balloon. When we got so that we could think intelli- 
gently on any subject, we thought, among other things, 
that such confounded amusement as this skating, must 
necessarily tend toward shortening the spinal column 
until a man's body and legs must be in about the same 
proportion as the body and handles of a pair of nut- 
crackers. We had a notion to quit j but after thinking 
over matters a little we got mad again, and when we get 
mad, there isn't any one pair of skates that can neutral- 
ize our feelings by any such conduct. We got up on 
all-fours and after flying up in the rear a few times, 
made out to erect a perpendicular once more, and just 
naturally clattered ahead regardless of consequences.- 
After making half a dozen frantic lunges in all direc- 
tions — our arms flying around like the arms of a wind- 
mill — we commenced going to grass again; the last 
thing that we remember was that the world had changed 
places with the moon, while we flew through space, 
playing the role of a comet, and suddenly several worlds 
came together, and things here below had gone to eter- 
nal slam bang. 



26 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

When we came too, we found we had struck all over, 
and were bu'sted in all quarters worse than a Chicago 
savings bank. We concluded to cease that sort of fun 
right then and there — unless we could be thoroughly 
cushioned and upholstered for the business — and we 
did quit. We were taken home on a friendly dray. 
No cards. 




TIME LS MONEY. 

>T IS pretty generally understood that printers 
are hard-working mortals, and we, ourself, are 
no exception to the rule — we have been the 
victim of honest toil all our life, and the bread 
that we have consumed has been the direct result of a 
perspiring brow. A day or two since, we thought to 
take a few hours' leisure ; the weather was pleasant and 
to leave our work and stroll about for a time, seemed 
good to us — indulge in a little physical inactivity and 
mental " slouchiness " to a reckless degree. Things 
were very quiet on the street j even the wickedest man 
in town leaned lazily over a drygoods box, with only 
life enough left to use one eye on some object of interest 
away up town. It was warm. Even the barber next 
door was sweating as he clawed around among the bushy 
beard of a frontiersman in search of a likely place to 
commence operations. We met a dog ; his tongue was 
out a good deal longer than his tail — he was a stumpy- 



ODD HOURS. 27 

tail dog. We felt sure, from the evidences around us. 
that it was too hot for mortal to labor, and our con- 
science pricked us not for the idle hours we were trying 
to enjoy. A show-window on the shady side of the 
street attracted our attention, and like an idle, curious 
boy, we leaned up against the frame and commenced 
looking at the " things. 1 ' There were dolls, some with 
heads and no bodies, and some with bodies and no 
heads, and others complete ; marbles of all sizes and 
colors, their cost so arranged as to suit boys of all con- 
ditions in life ; jack-knives with bone and horn handles, 
"barlows/' admirably arranged for cutting a boy's 
finger to the bone in the neatest style ; there were glass 
beads, tinseled and plain, big strings for a quarter and 
little ones for a cent; just the things to lead into cap- 
tivity the eye of the little miss; a "jumping-jack," with 
his limber legs all set for business, his arms akimbo, and 
staring at us with a look which seemed to say, " If you 
don't believe I can git up and dust, just pull my tail a 
trifle; " a little goat looked up at us saucily, and we felt 
sure he said, " You're another ; " we quit looking at 
the goat. Pretty soon we discovered a little " savings 
bank " among the mass of toy goods, and right over the 
little hole where the coppers were supposed to be in- 
serted, were these words in gilt letters : " Time is Mon- 
ey." This, taken in connection with the language of 
the goat, was the least bit too heavy for our conscience ; 
and, after pondering seriously for a moment, we took 
another small look at those ominous words on the bank, 
and at that miserable goat, and then we went straight 
home again— just as straight as we could go. We firm- 



28 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

ly resolved that after meeting with such a rebuke from 
so unexpected a source, we should never again cease to 
make good use of our time — for tired hands are far bet- 
ter than a guilty conscience. 



THE CAT 



vMJMjP E KNOW but little concerning the ancient 
y^&S^history of the cat. It is supposed, however, 
^^* that the world has nearly always had its full 
quota of assorted cats. We once saw saw an Egyptian 
mummy that had been taken from the universal tomb 
of the Egyptians — the Catacombs. It was the body of 
a full-grown man, and though it had not decomposed, 
like the dead of to-day, it was terribly withered up, and 
was about the color of navy tobacco. His body had, 
of course, been embalmed, after the fashion of the 
ancient time in which this gentleman had been laid on 
the shelf. He had been encased in what at that time 
was called linen ; in these days we call it " old gunny 
sack.' 7 After being wound about with strips of this 
three-cent fabric, from head to foot — much as we do up 
a sore thumb — he had apparently been soaked in tar, 
or something. This not only excluded the air, but pre- 
served the body from decomposition, and let the old 
chap dry down, and sort of " set." This ancient Egyp- 
tian had probably been dead for two or three thousand 
years, and was as fine a specimen of " well-preserved " 



ODD HOURS. 2 9 

humanity as we ever beheld. For the purpose of al- 
lowing his posterity to look upon the face of one of the 
most illustrious of real " old seeds," the coffee-sacking 
had been removed from about his head and shoulders, 
and, aside from his dark complexion, and eccentric cast 
of countenance, he had the appearance of having been 
a prominent man in his time — possibly a government 
gauger or the president of a savings bank. But, you 
ask, what has this ancient mummy to do with the cat 
story ? 

Well, the authorities who had desecrated the tomb, 
and brought away this effectually dried up individual, 
had also brought all the tomb contained. Among the 
other items was a cat, that had evidently been placed 
therein at the same time with its master. The animal 
had been wrapped and soaked in the same manner as 
he ; and was preserved in as perfect condition ; even the 
hair, and the color of the hair was the same as when it 
cantered around the back alleys of ancient Cairo, or 
Thebes, in quest of a stray mouse, or purred around the 
feet ot one of the Pharaohs. It was the remains of a 
yellow and white cat, with an occasional gray spot, for 
variety's sake — a sort of calico cat. It was probably a 
favorite, and the master doubtless ordered, immediately 
prior to his demise, that the cat be killed and buried 
with him ; or, possibly, the cat died first, and the master 
finding no further object in life, when the cat was gone, 
finished his own life, and both he and his cat were 
toted to the Catacombs together. 

At any rate, this two-thousand-year-old cat conclu- 
sively pro\es that cats are no new thing; but, that the 



3 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

ancients knew, as well as we, the beauties of a duet 
on the garden wall at the low hour of twelve. And if 
they embalmed all their cats in those days, it shows how 
utterly reckless we have grown in these latter days on 
the cat question. But if there was any good reason for 
paying such respect to the cat, then the Egyptians neg- 
lected to " hand it down " to us; and, never finding any 
reason for giving a dead cat any more than an ordinary 
burial, we have drowned scores of them, hung several, 
and smashed a good many. 

A cat is supposed to have nine lives. Just how this 
fact was first discovered we are not aware. We once 
undertook to kill a very old and tough Thomas-cat, 
however, and discovered the truth of this assertion. We 
drowned him once, but we had not got half way home 
when that cat came purring against our leg, as if to rub 
the water off his glossy fur. Next day we mauled him 
half an hour across a fence rail, supposing we had 
broken every bone in his body, and threw him over a 
bank. That night a cat was heard at the door, and 
upon opening it, in galloped Thomas, as lively as a 
cricket ; the mauling had apparently only limbered up 
his joints, though he looked a little gaunt. We killed 
that cat every day for two weeks, in all the horrid forms 
known to a determined nature ; but, upon leaving home 
some years afterward, there wasn't a livelier cat of his 
age in the neighborhood. 

Cats are great thinkers j they will often sit and sleep- 
ily gaze into the fire for an hour ; then suddenly start 
off into another room or out to the barn and bring back 
a mouse in each corner of their mouth. They evident- 



ODD HOURS. 31 

ly figure out, by a mathematical calculation, which 
mouse-hole is entitled to furnish the next lunch. 

There is one thing about cats that always made us 
respect them ■ and, in fact, when we stop to reflect 
about it we cannot help loving a cat : It is because 
they have music in them — we always did love anything 
that furnished this hum-drum life of ours with music. 
There is probably as much music in a cat as in any oth- 
er creature. Their in'ards are tightly strung in all the 
orchestras, and in all the gay ball-rooms of the world; 
and without the soothing, soul-stirring strains that fill 
the world with joy, emanating from the internal ar- 
rangements of the cat we should certainly realize that 
we are " all poor creatures." In fact, it would prove a 
great catastrophe in the world, were all the cats to be 
stricken out of existence. 



We saw a man going down street the other day, 
with an irregular gait, trying to sing that old, old song 
entitled " Hie ! " and endeavoring, between the verses, 
to smoke a clothes-pin. 




32 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





HOW TO BEGIN ON A NEW EARM. 



AVING been raised in the West, and it having 
become " noised around " that we knew some- 
thing of how to commence on a new farm, or 
" claim," a young man has applied to us to write an 
article on the subject, as he and others have proposed 
to " go west," where land is cheap and plenty, and 
adopt the life of a farmer — anciently called tiller, mod 
ernly styled " granger." The young man was anxious 
to gain all the information possible on the subject of 
opening up a " claim," and we admire his good judge- 
ment in applying to a reliable source to obtain knowl- 
edge in regard to the most noble and ennobling occupa- 
tion of man. 

The first move toward farming a new claim in the 
west is to take possession of it ; the next, to enclose a 
small tract of the land and put a roof over it ; floors may 
be introduced, if the proprietor is pretty forehanded, 
otherwise they are a luxury that may be dispensed with 
indefinitely. There should be two 'apertures left in the 
walls — one for daylight to climb in at, the other to ad- 
mit ingress and egress on the part of the proprietor. 
The furniture necessary to a good square start on a new 



ODD HOURS. 33 

farm, should be rather plain, to be in good taste; for, 
the vanity of pomp and show should never be allowed 
to invade the natural simplicity of a new farm. A stool 
with three legs — one on the south and two on the north 
side — should suffice for that kind of "paraphernalia; " 
at first, a little inconvenience may be experienced in 
trying to sit on it without tipping over; but any one 
with sufficient talent to master the art of riding a veloc- 
ipede, will very soon prove equal to riding one of these 
kind of chairs. It is less difficult than a one-legged 
milking-stool by just two-thirds. The table, for a new 
farm, should be a barrel, for several reasons : a salt-bar- 
rel, the open end up, and a board across the top ; this 
is what we term an extension table — the longer the 
board the greater the extension. The inner recesses of 
this table can be used as a wardrobe and cupboard, in 
which the settler may keep his other shirt and the extra 
provisions away from the mice. By hugging the knees 
around the barrel when eating, the chair can be man- 
aged with greater dexterity. A tin plate and cup, with 
horn-handle knife and fork, a tin dish and spoon with 
which to handle the pork and gravy, should complete 
the table-ware for a new farm, unless, as we said before, 
the proprietor is forehanded, in which case a tin sugar- 
bowl might be added consistently — one painted brown, 
so that too great a contrast will not exist between the 
instrument and its contents — for if sugar is used at all, 
its hue should be somber ; ten or twelve pounds for a 
dollar. All the supplies necessary to start a new farm 
are a hundred-weight of pork, a barrel of flour, a barrel 
of salt, the same of vinegar — to eat with " greens " — 



34 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

and a peck of beans ; if the proprietor is forehanded, 
however, he might increase the quantity of salt and 
vinegar, and add half a pound of pepper and a nutmeg. 

The next duty of the proprietor of a new farm in a 
new country should be to kill a coon ; this will wake 
him up to a sense of defensive and offensive operations ; 
but the chief object to be gained by this is to get the 
skin of the animal to nail on the door; for if there is 
anything that seems good to us, and that ornaments the 
door of a house on a new farm to an appropriate per- 
fection, it is a coon-skin artistically stretched and nailed 
up with the flesh side out; and then, it's so "lucky." 

The proprietor should next tear up the bosom of the 
virgin soil with a twenty-two inch plow hitched to a 
yoke of at least moderately stout oxen ; at first he may 
grow impatient to do too much plowing in too short a 
time ; we warn him that unless patience is cultivated on 
a new farm, he will fail. If he breaks up fifteen or six- 
teen acres per day at first — with one yoke of oxen and 
a twenty-two inch plow — he is doing a good, reasonable 
business, and may safely estimate that he is succeeding 
as well as could be expected. He should " plow deep 
whilst sluggards sleep " — say about twelve or fifteen 
inches in depth. When plowing, or breaking, is done, 
let him be particular as to the quality and variety of his 
seeds, for planting an " old seed " on a new tarm is of 
no earthly account. The variety of corn known as 
" sod-corn " is the best for the first year's planting. If 
a great variety of crops is desired on a limited area of 
ground, it would be best to mix the seed before sowing 
— wheat, rye, barley, buckwheat, flax, turnip and oats 



ODD HOURS. 35 

in equal parts, and put on about ten bushels to the 
acre. The winters being somewhat long in this coun- 
try, the young fanner can employ himself during the 
snowy months, in sorting out his crops and getting them 
ready for the spring market. We advise the production 
of poultry and pigs, and the cultivation of butter and 
beeswax; they are all saleable products, and besides, 
the turkeys and chickens are death on grasshoppers and 
bugs — a hundred turkeys will alone sweep dozens and 
dozens of grasshoppers out of existence in a single sum- 
mer, while chickens are a tangible terror to striped bugs 
that infest cucumber- vines. We trust these few practi- 
cal suggestions, by one who has been there and knows 
as to these things, may prove more or less valuable to 
every reader who desires to start on a new farm. 

We recently attended church service in a frontier 
district, where the pioneers and their families were gath- 
ered in a log church and listened to the gospel as ex- 
pounded by the good pastor, who performed his rounds 
in the wide field of his labors on foot, and often by 
moonlight, along the Indian trails of the wilderness. 
To be sure, in his earnest sermons, he did not bore with 
as large an auger as many of his co-laborers in city pul- 
pits, but he came as near slaughtering Satan as almost 
any of them. 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





TOO MANY SUBJECTS. 



E HAVE received an invitation to deliver a 
lecture in one of the interior districts of the 
region which we inhabit at the present time. 
It grieves us to say that we shall have to decline the in- 
vitation, because we cannot lecture anyway — we're not 
that kind of a man. What our friends will lose, by our 
declination, we should feel sorry for, only their loss will 
be so very trifling that it will not warrant any extended 
season of grief on our part. But, when we refuse to 
lecture, in this instance, we know just what we're doing 
— when we declare that we cannot lecture we speak 
advisedly in the matter. We know better than any one 
else our capacity as a Demosthenese or Cicero, because 
we've tried it. A few years ago — just previous to the 
time when we found out we couldn't — the committee of 
a four-horse literary society invited us to deliver a set 
lecture. We smiled upon that committee, and told' them 
they could feel assured their wish should be complied 
with — that it would give us great pleasure to furnish the 
grand occasion with one of the best efforts they would 
probably enjoy during the lecture season. Then they 
smiled upon us, and departed. We had about ten days 



ODD HOURS. 37 

in which to prepare it. After spending a day and a 
night in thinking up a subject we . determined to write 
all we knew upon several topics, so that if we failed on 
one we could switch off on another — our bump of cau- 
tion is remarkably well developed. The evening finally 
came, and the hall was jammed full — this was very flat- 
tering, though our knees perceptibly weakened upon 
staring so many countenances in the face. In fact, we 
wished there weren't so many countenances present 
Upon being introduced, as the renowned Ole Dudley- 
son, from Scratchmyback Mountain, our heart com- 
menced threshing around and playing pull-away in such 
an outlandish manner that we came near tumbling off 
the platform. We felt just as though we looked like a 
man who wasn't much of a lecturer — a fellow who had 
escaped the notice of the fool-killer, when he took the 
last census. We had notes of all we knew upon four 
different subjects, and had the four sheets of paper, one 
on top of the other, with the heads to each written out 
in a bold hand, excepting one set of notes, which had 
no top head. This sheet lay on top of the others, as 
we afterwards learned, and the next one to it was on 
" Modern Feudalism." This one had the caption plain- 
ly written, and it projected just above the top sheet that 
had no heading. Ordinarily, of course, we should have 
noticed it ; but our feelings were so intensified that we 
never discovered our mistake, until after we had discov- 
ered that lecturing wasn't our forte. The top sheet was 
on the subject of, "The Domestic Animals of America." 
After stiffening our pedal extremities sufficiently, we ad- 
vanced to the stand and remarked, "Ahem ! " Then 



3 8 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

we took a drink of water, glanced at the sea of faces in 
front of us, and said, "Ahem," again. Then in order 
to give our heart and gizzard time to play their game 
out, we reached around to our coat-tail pocket for our 
handkerchief, and wiped the water off our mouth. 
Then we brushed our hair back, noticed if our neck tie 
was in position, said "ahem," and felt for our manu- 
script. We said : " Mr. President — ahem ! The sub- 
ject I have chosen for the edification and instruction of 
the audience this evening, is " Modern Feudalism." — 
About this time we were about blind with embarras- 
ment, and could hardly see the writing that followed 
the bold heading, and too much excited to notice 
whether the body fitted the heading, or the heading al- 
luded to the body. We continued : " Mr. President, 
I repeat, that this lecture is a treatise upon Modern 
Feudalism. There is no subject more interesting for 
contemplation, for discussion, and kindly consideration 
than our domestic animals. The ox, the cow, the 
heifer, the steer, the calf; the horse, the mare, the colt, 
the gelding, and — and so forth; the hen, the rooster, 
the turkey and the turkey-gobbler ; the cat and the dog, 
and the — and the — the mouse and — and other domestic 
creatures, etc., etc." About this time some unruly boys 
began to whistle " down breaks," and the audience gen- 
erally began to laugh and stamp their feet. At first we 
we thought the growing tumult was that of approval — 
though we hadn't thought the laugh came in so soon. 
After some time, we tried to say that " of all the ani- 
mals people had around the house, the bed-bug was 
furthest irom being valuable or desirable ; " but it was 



ODD HOURS. 39 

no use. The audience had gotten entirely away with 
the gentleman from Scratchmyback Mountain, and it 
was not until the President had adjourned the meeting, 
that we discovered we had announced one subject, and 
begun speaking on another; and after we finally became 
possessed of our usual composure and senses, we thought 
the matter over and concluded that lecturing wasn't the 
calling best suited to our natural bent — we didn't seem 
to be bent in that way. So we have " sworn off," as 
the old toper would remark on New Year's Day. Our 
ambition to grace the rostrum has become permanently 
crushed and battered down. 



A young man of our acquaintance who grew up 
from the cradle with an unconquerable desire to become 
a brakeman on a railroad train, finally got a " sit " on 
a freight train. He worked at his favorite calling for six 
months, gross time; up to that time he had lost the 
thumb of one hand, three fingers off the other, had an 
ear scraped nearly off by a " bumper," had three ribs 
broken, the toes of his left foot smashed, and his back 
wrenched so as to partially disable him for life. When 
we last heard from him he had determined to retire from 
the railroad business, and what was left of him was ne- 
gotiating with a gardener for a summer's job of breaking 
on a vegetable cart. 




4 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





AN EXPLANATION. 



EARNING early during our tender years that 
even an Arab who had never written a book, 
was set down as an article of Arab too worthless 
to even be accounted for in a census report, we secretly 
resolved to come up to at least an average specimen 
of that nationality, if we had to hire it done. We have 
never entered into any special line of training for the 
book-making business, because we desired to have an 
original work ; and feared, that if we should ever read 
another book, ours might be too much like the one we 
read. We ventured once to read a portion of " Milton 
Lost in Paradise," (we believe that is where he lost his 
bearings), somebody's "Treatise on the Creation," a 
few snatches, by Homer, " Mother Goose's Melodies," 
and the " Early Voyages by the Northmen." Our re- 
gret at having done so, however, has always been a 
source of annoyance, as will be discovered by the care- 
ful reader of these pages, when bearing in mind that we 
intended to have it completely original. We have had 
the hardest kind of work to prevent our productions 
from being almost a copy of some of the best ef- 
forts of the above-mentioned writers. Some of our 



ODD HOURS. 41 

keenest articles are worded a little differently, but the 
style is almost precisely the same as theirs. We there- 
fore desire to make this explanation, and thus remove 
any suspicion that we intended it to be so ; because, we 
solemnly aver that nothing was further from our desires. 
Although the original harmony of the enclosed produc- 
tions is thus rendered inharmonious, we trust, under the 
circumstances, that our readers will not set us down as 
a literary pirate, altogether, but will give us credit for 
having made a fair onslaught upon originality. We for- 
give the authors named, for having been indirectly re- 
sponsible for marring our book, as we are convinced 
that they did not write their books for that purpose, and 
the fault is mostly our own. We feel very much elated, 
however, as far as we have gone,; it having become 
widely " noised about " that we were soon to place a 
book " on tap " we have, up to this date, received or- 
ders for nearly half a dozen of them — from various sec- 
tions of the country — and feel sure that if this kind of a 
rush continues right along, ten hours a day, we will be 
able to work off our whole edition of three thousand 
copies inside of two hundred years. After that, we shall 
be able to publish another book with more style about 
it, and then rest on our laurels, conscious that our liter- 
ary calibre will then be equivalent to two separate and 
distinct Arabs, or one double-barreled Arab. 




42 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





HOW LS LT? 



ES, it is often asked, " How is it that homely 
girls can find chances to marry, and do marry ? " 
We heard a girl ask that question just a day or 
two ago. It seemed to puzzle her mightily, in fact, as 
she puckered up her pretty lips and turned up her deli- 
cate little nose, more in contempt than in sympathy. 
We dare to suggest to her that, take 'em as they run, 
homely girls are best at heart, have sounder minds, are 
more amiable, are happier themselves — despite the con- 
sciousness of possessing a plain face — and strive more 
to make those about them happy. They come much 
nearer, as a class, being what God intended to honor 
by the noble name of woman than the pretty faced pets 
of the sex, who are too frequently marred in soul and 
character by their beautiful faces. When men desire to 
sow their wild oats, and appear at the festivities of the 
world, where show or outward beauty is the reigning 
master, then they choose the butterflies as companions, 
who can smile bewitchingly and glitter most brilliantly 
'neath the gas jets. But men, as a class, are not so fool- 
ish as to select a brilliant exterior, alone, for a life com- 
panion ; they ask the hand of a woman, when they seek 



ODD HOURS. 43 

for a home-queen ; a woman full of earnest purose, with 
a loving disposition, a faithful trust and untiring patience 
in her life-labor of making home happy, and one in 
whose face, though it may be plain, shines forth the 
radiance of a pure mind, a cheerful soul, and with a 
faith both in the life of the present and the heaven of 
the future. These are a few of the reasons " why home- 
ly girls marry." 



MA Y BASKETS. 



AY-DAY morning, many of the young ladies 
and gentlemen found, hung upon their door- 
knobs, beautifully constructed May-baskets, 
containing boquets of wild flowers. Although neither a 
young lady, nor an extremely young gentleman — judg- 
ing from the number of youngsters who call us " Dad " 
— we have to thank somebody for one of these pretty 
little tokens of friendship. It is a pleasant custom, in- 
deed, and one that not only reminds us that the flowery 
month is here, but makes one's heart palpitate with a 
sort of secret joy in the consciousness that a mindful 
friend has passed our way during the stilly hours of 
night, and not a stealthy enemy. We say again, bless- 
ings on all these beautiful little customs, which contrib- 
ute so largely in binding human hearts together, and 
bringing all nearer, and with greater thanks, toward 
God, who so mercifully allows us to live and enjoy His 
blessings. 




44 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





COLTS. 

/&$ NEW colt —particularly a "blooded" colt — is 
"lanything but a picturesque spectacle, and is as 
awkward a looking contrivance as a wheelbarrow 
with one handle broken off. Its legs stand around in 
rows with about the same regularity as the ratters in a 
bu'sted umbrella, and they have joints in them that look 
like the battered end of a pile-driver. Colts don't know 
much until they have learned something; they give 
their dam a power of trouble, and when they go out in 
company the mother endures so much vexation that she 
sweats like a thunder-cloud. When a colt gets where 
there are other horses, it is dead-sure to follow off the 
the wrong animal ; and, with an innocence that is per- 
fectly exasperating, will follow after a strange horse with 
a persistency sufficient to make its own mother turn 
grey ; when it gets a little foolish, by the presence of 
other company, it don't know its own mother from a 
two-year-old steer. We have seen a colt run around a 
half-acre lot fourteen times, hunting its mother, when 
there wasn't another thing in the lot but its mother. If 
they have their own way, they only take one meal a 
day, but that lasts all the time — probably they do this 



ODD HOURS. 4S 

to keep from " piecing between meals." Anew colt's 
tail looks like a cat's tail, when the cat is taking a sur- 
vey of a dog, and its head seems so heavy that we al- 
ways feel nervous for fear it will tip up and break its 
neck; their bodies are about as gracefully proportioned 
as a corn-cob, and about the same shape, and they look 
out of their eyes just as though they were looking at 
nothing. We don't like colts much when they're green, 
and when they get ripe they are more dangerous than 
a long spell of sickness, so we don't like colts in any 
shape — because they have no shape, anyway. 

We noticed a little pig on the street the other day, 
picking up stray kernels of corn under a wagon, to 
which a span of average mules were hitched. Pretty 
soon the little porker had taken in all the stray corn he 
could find, and so he thought he would just take a little 
smell of the oft" mule's north heel— that's just like a little 
fool pig would do, you know. Well, the mule stretched 
out his leg about that time, and the little innocent pig- 
little dreaming that he had placed his nose against the 
most artistic besom of destruction known to history- 
commenced to emigrate, and the last we saw of him he 
looked about as big as a bumble-bee, and was just pass- 
ing out of sight over a neighboring hill-top. 




A 6 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





THE BIRCH CANOE. 



ITT1NG on the beach; the waters of the Lake 
are as still as the evening is peaceful ; scarce a 
ripple is seen to mar the glassy bosom of the 
Hay, and the full round moon is duplicated in body and 
beauty, as it looks down into the deep blue waters from 
its azure field above. The evening star twinkles out 
from the bending vault, like a glittering gem — brilliant 
and new as the day it was placed there by the finger of 
the Almighty. All Nature seems hushed in repose, as 
if waiting with breathless respect for angels to peer out 
through Heaven's portals and smile upon a wicked 
world. Soon a plaintive sound is heard, and the mirror- 
like surface of the waters is seen to change to oval 
riplets as, from a neighboring nook, a canoe emerges, 
bearing two children of the forest; as they dip their 
paddles, the frail bark seems possessed of wings and 
glides gracefully o'er the water, and the dusky maiden, 
with wild, soft notes gives a musical melody to the oth- 
erwise silent scene. Viewing them in their primitive 
craft, we cannot but feel something akin to sadness, as 
we reflect that they are the final remnant of a rapidly 
lading race. The strain they sing seems to say, " Fare- 



ODD HOURS. 4 7 

well ! We leave these beautiful shores to the hands of 
the conquering pale-face ! " For hundreds of years- 
yea, thousands— the blue waters before us knew no 
touch save that of the birch canoe, and the rocky cliffs 
echoed back no sound but the plaintive songs of the 
red man, and its own hoarse voice when torn by the 
ruthless tempest. Passing away ! — Passing away ! In- 
stead of the birch-bark fleets of old, now are seen the 
monster ships, with great white sails and towering masts, 
raking the sky above and plowing the deep below • the 
giant monarchs, with smoke and steam, fly hither and 
thither like fiery monsters, and with their deafening yells 
start very Nature from its wonted slumber, and frighten 
the birch canoe away to a refuge in some rocky glen. 
Soon, the smooth Bay will no more reflect back the face 
of Nature's daughters, the cliffs echo with the war- 
whoop of the savage warrior, nor the laughing brooks 
gurgle an accompaniment to the lullaby of the Indian 
mother. The birch canoe will only be known to song ; 
no longer will it kiss the mossy bank at its moorings, 
nor rock to slumber, on the bosom of the Bay, the in- 
fants of its passing race. 




4 8 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





A REVERY. 



OW solemn is the thought, as one sits by the 
hearth in the evening-hour, gazing vacantly at 
the wasting embers of the fire — thinking of 
many scenes of the past, and yet thinking of nothing in 
particular — when the toll of the faithful old clock re- 
minds you that another hour has dripped into the re- 
ceptacle of eternity. Again the never-resting wheels of 
your mind start back over the path of the past. The 
scenes of your life flit through the channel of thought 
like a panorama of lightning scenes, and carry you, in 
a twinkling, from the days of your swaddling-clothes to 
the very present. Then you retreat again, to pause for 
a moment and gaze over the threshold of some painful 
or pleasant event of your life and view it o'er again ; 
then you leap to another and another, and see how you 
might have bettered it, or how narrow was the ecsape 
from a worse result. When all is past and gone, how 
many incidents you can recall that were keys to as 
many doors leading out from the path you traveled. 
Had you unlocked any one of them and passed through, 
whither would you have strayed and where would you 
have landed ? Then you surmise and speculate. How 



ODD HOURS. 4 9 

i 
thankful you feel to a protecting heaven that you did 

not stray out into many of the by-paths that tempted 
as you passed, and which, as the experience of maturer 
years has taught, would have led to speedy ruin of eith- 
er soul, or body, or prospects— or all. Then you feel 
half inclined to murmur because you did not go into 
others that it now seems must have led to honor, wealth 
and happiness far beyond what you now possess. This 
latter is dangerous ground upon which to dwell, and is 
the sap-worm of contentment and the comforts you have 
already gained; this you must shun, lest you sin against 
yourself and the merciful Being whom you owe for all 
the innumerable blessings and favors of which you have 
been the ungrateful recipient. Again the clock strikes 
the hour, and you are startled from the deep reverie 
that absorbs your mind, and are partially brought back 
to the ever anxious present. Then you leap into the 
future, and out upon its broad area wander only through 
flowery paths and magnificent castles — no man sees 
monsters in coming time, who looks out through the 
window of hope. All views are pleasant, all pastures 
are green j the stream of future life is clear and its bosom 
unruffled by storms of adversity, The sunshine on the 
path of years to come is only shut out by the distant 
and ever receding horizon which, when finally reached, 
you have a confiding hope that you shall find a peace- 
ful resting-place in the eternity of God and the home of 
your fathers. With feelings of resignation, yet a sad- 
dened mind, you retire to your couch resolving to hope 
for the best and prepare for the worst. 



5° 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





BUYING A COW. 

OT BEING a millionaire, we have never had 
a single thought, or aspired to the dignity of 
burnishing our barn-yard with a sure-enough Al- 
derney cow. They are the " rage," to be sure ; 
but all of these fine-haired animals have been picked 
up, and now adorn the rear landscapes of the bonanza- 
kings' homes, who dwell here and there among us, 
where they nip the delicate herbage and pan out thick 
cream in the fore-milking with an after-piece, at each 
sitting, of pure, gilt-edge butter, all ready for the table. 
We are tolerably proud, though, if we haven't a bank 
account or a mine, and to get a good cow — one that 
would give right good common fluid, plenty of it, was 
gentle, graceful in her motions, with an intelligent coun- 
tenance, — was our ambition. We thought we knew 
most of the " points " of a good family cow, and so kept 
our eye cocked for one that would please our fancy, for 
a good cow, if she wasn't particularly picturesque in 
some particulars. 

The first cow we mistook for a "milker" proved to 
be otherwise. She was a long, loose-jointed affair, with 
symetrical limbs, and had a real knowing look as she 
would peak around at the lacteal artist from underneath 



ODD HOURS. 51 

her lop-horn, on the near side. She was a little skittish, 
we noticed, but thought nothing about it, because she 
watched us very steadily. Pretty soon, however, we 
made a miss-Q, in some manner, and she handed us one, 
before we could apologize ; and when we landed we 
were in too much of a pile to assume an apologetic po- 
sition, and so we went to the house and went to bed. 
This creature kicked us into the middle of the next day, 
twice, and knocked daylight out, and starlight into us, 
once, and gave seven pints of very poor milk during the 
four days we owned her, and then the butcher gave us 
a little something for her, on account, and we began 
looking for another cow that wasn't quite so loose in 
the joints. 

The next one was a monstrous ox-like animal, with a 
head on her like a pile-driver, and an udder as big as a 
bass-drum. She looked kind of foolish out of her eyes, 
and didn't know anything but " eat." It took a banv 
full of hay and a wagon-load of shorts and corn to keep 
her from actually starving during the first week. She 
gave more milk than the first one, — say about five 
quarts a day — but it cost too much. We finally sold 
her to the butcher who said she would do to " com," 
and he could sell her hide to good advantage for heavy 
belt-leather. 

Number three was a gentle little creature — white, with 
brindle spots. She had only one teat that amounted to 
much, and that amounted to a good deal ; when it was 
full it was about the only projection there was around 
there, and it was so huge that it took both hands to get 
around far enough to produce a pressure, and there 



52 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

wasn't strength enough in four average country editors 
to draw the milk from that cocoanut, without wearing 
themselves up to a stub in doing it. We had to put a 
porus-plaster on the back of the calf s neck to help it to 
draw enough sustenance to keep it alive — and it had a 
terrible suction, too, that calf had* We began to sus- 
pect that we didn't know so very much about selecting 
a cow, after all ; and that people around here were 
working oft" their refuse stock on us. We paid big 
prices, (and sold them for what we could get) and got 
several of the most celebrated poor cows in the neigh- 
borhood. Folks got to whistling, and making mouths 
at one another, when they would see us coming along 
the road leading a new cow. The thing was growing 
pretty monotonous, and although we lost enough money, 
dealing in cows, to have bought a whole flock of Al- 
derneys, we got mad, and were bound to strike butter 
and milk, outside of the Alderney strain, or bu'st. We 
kept on buying and selling cows, — losing five or ten 
dollars on each — averaging a new one every week, un- 
til we had ground through about all there were around, 
that any one wanted to sell. Our occupation seemed 
to be the role of a middle man between cow-owners and 
the butchers; both were making a good thing at our 
expense. 

At last, however, after investing the last dollar we had, 
and giving several long notes, and after being kicked 
into every fence-corner on the place, we struck it — we 
struck it rich. 

A poor man — and consequently honest — owed a 
debt, and in order to pay it he had to sell his last cow, 



ODD HOURS. 53 

and we gobbled her. Talk about your cows ! — Your 
dark-eyed, brass-knobbed Alderneys ! Our cow would 
not permit one of them to scratch against the same 
fence. The first evening, we filled everything in the 
house that would hold milk, including the wash boiler. 
In the morning, the cream had to be spaded off with 
the fire-shovel, and two churns were at once set to work. 
Upon going out to milk, we found the mess she gave 
the night before was only a priming. It was a regular 
Niagara of richness; there was no use in trying, we 
couldn't find store room for it on the premises, without 
using the cistern, and after filling all the tubs around the 
place, we had to turn the stream into the alley — it was 
awful. We had to go to feeding her saw-dust and mop- 
rags to dry up the current, and now we've got her 
choked down to about sixteen quarts of cream at a 
milking. Some people may think Alderneys are " old 
business," but the cow we have now can drown an Al- 
derney in the milk she gives, twice a day, and roll out 
a pound of butter to the pint. We've gotten through 
supplying the butchers. 




54 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





THE FARM FEVER. 



VERY so often we have a run of it. We get 
^entirely discouraged with the narrow, contract- 
ed life of a newspaper man, and feel as though 
our Maker intened us to fill a bigger place — say about 
300 acres or so. We itch all over to go right out and 
rip up the surface of the country, and raise wheat and 
oats, barley, hogs, and other vegetables. We want to 
get hold of the forked end of a plow, and play a long 
lash over a breaking team. This thing of shoving a 
five-cent lead pencil seems so utterly trifling — too light 
a business for a man who knows he could run half the 
farms in the State — into the ground, for instance. Our 
muscle is just humping up all over us, in great goose- 
pimples. We want to slash the seed into the ground, 
manage stock and be boss of wide acres. When one of 
these spells comes on we can hardly hold ourself ; we 
have to go right out and jam something around and 
look about for somebody to buy us out — lead-pencil and 
all — just lumping the whole thing off for a dollar and a 
half and a yoke of oxen. Then again, we happen to 
think that, " He who by the plow would thrive, himself 
must either hold or drive," or words to that effect, and 



ODD HOURS. 55 

that mostly cools us off, and lead pencils begin to rise. 
If you want to buy a newspaper cheap, just take us 
when the " farm fever " has a square hold of us. 




A REAL TROUBLE. 

NE of the old boss dogs, who assume the re- 
sponsibility of keeping the common town dogs 
>and the green country dogs all straight, around 
on the streets, got his dignified eye on an ill- 
behaved canine, the other day, on the opposite side of 
Superior street, who was doing something or other that 
the old " boss," who ran that side of the block, con- 
ceived to be unconstitutional, according to the dog law, 
and so he just made a fearfully impetuous break for him. 
Having his goggles steadfastly fixed upon the special 
object of his wrath, he didn't observe any intervening 
obstructions. A husky old Scandinavian fellow citizen, 
who had been ably discussing a cord of hard-maple 
wood, and was located just between the two dogs, was, 
at the time standing leaning on his saw, indulging in a 
moment of rest ; he was kind of lazily gazing upward 
into the " mellow depths of immeasurable space," his 
mind, no doubt far away among the hills and hollows 
of his native land; mayhap, comparing the solidity of 
American maple with that of Norway pine, with the 
odds in favor of the maple, by a large majority; or, he 
may have been engaged in trying to figure out why it 
was that some men were beggars and some were bank- 
8 



56 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

ers, and others occupied that middle ground, wherein 
they were permitted to manipulate a bucksaw at the 
rate of seventy-five cents a cord — provided they carried 
the wood up two flights of stairs after they got it sawed. 
His face wore a serious expression at all events, and he 
evidently didn't find a great deal in this land of milk 
and honey, and things, worth laughing about ; his face 
was not that of an habitual laugher, by any means. 
He was unquestionably a gentleman who always looked 
the serious side of any object or proposition over first, 
and after accomplishing this he found no time to lavish 
upon the other side. But, we had almost lost sight of 
the big law-loving dog, in question. He was a " heavy 
dog," and he was certainly very much agitated by the 
miserable cussedness of the dog on the other side of the 
street — so much so that he went straight for him, that 
he might direct the immediate attention of his erring 
brother dog to some point of order, or some rule or 
practice upon which he was seriously infringing under 
the by laws then in force. He made a most impetuous 
push for victory the first thing. In his forward move- 
ment upon the enemy's works he ran between the legs 
of our reflecting Scandinavian Iriend, and was just high 
enough to lift him from his feet and, with the head of 
steam with which he started out he carried the wood- 
sawyer nearly to the middle of the street, where the mud 
was uncommonly deep and thin, ere he could set him 
down. The Scandinavian said something about the 
time he left his sawbuck, but he didn't say it in the 
United States language, so we lost the probable force 
of the remark. About the instant that he turned a 



ODD HOURS. 57 

back somersault off the dog, and dove into the sea ot 
mud, head and shoulders foremost, the big dog had the 
other dog by the ear, and he proceeded to give him 
what his conduct richly deserved, in less than a quarter 
of a minute. When he let him go, he went around the 
corner looking, for all the world, like a mud-pie with 
legs under it, and a handle sticking out behind. As 
our friend, the knight of the buck, arose to his feet, he 
looked like the tail-end of a brick-machine ; he wiped 
the mud out of one eye, blew the superficial quantity 
out of his mouth, and then he made some further re- 
marks, something like these : " Cone-futtle-tam-tog-er- 
rame - lukee - cutyhellee - bone-futchee-whoop-pe-hellee- 
time ! " He got hold of a cord- wood stick and let it go 
in the direction of the dog, but it missed the mark a 
little and the old peace-maker trotted around the cor- 
ner, while our friend adjourned the seventy-five cent 
struggle till he could go to his ivy-clad cot and shovel 
the mud off his clothes and dig out his ears, and the 
other eye. 




5« 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





PIC-NLC-ING. 



HEN our young folks want to have a real 
.good time, they go on a picnic; and so do 
many of our old folks. We caught the picnic 
fever a few days ago, and went. Arriving at " the pret- 
tiest spot on the face of the earth," etc., we prepared to 
enjoy the immeasurable glory of a first-class picnic. Our 
party got the boat anchored, took all the baskets, ice, a 
bucket of fresh water, lemons, etc., up the hill to the 
beautiful grove, and camped down among the blue- 
bells, butter-cups, honey-suckles and the fragrant dan- 
delions, in the shade of the trees. It was too early to 
" eat the picnic " as yet, so in order to kill time most of 
us went out to gather ferns and things. No picnic is 
quite right unless you talk a great deal about how re- 
fined it is to love ferns, and how you love, above every- 
thing else in this world, to gather ferns and have fern- 
eries about your home — gathering them with your own 
perspiring brow, etc. Some of the party, however, 
stayed in camp and read poetry —reading aloud, sawing 
the air with gestures, and putting in all the flourishes 
allowed by elocution, and more if they felt like it. Not 
being particularly in love with verse, we proved our re- 



ODD HOURS. 59 

finement of taste by joining the fern-gatherers. The 
truth is, we don't know a fern from a red oak bush, and 
care a great deal less ; but we hunted ferns with a com- 
mendable zeal, just the same. Af^er prowling around 
through the tanglewood, brush and nettles, for a time 
looking for some weed that would correspond with our 
idea of what a fern ought to be, we struck it. That is, 
we stooped down to gather a clump of vegetation that 
averaged a little better for "pretty" than anything we 
had before discovered. But, as we were about to pluck 
the ferny clump from the pregnant earth, a snake, about 
four feet long, hauled itself from beneath those weeds ; 
we straightened up suddenly, as we are led to presume, 
and so did our hair — for we felt that stand up, very dis- 
tinctly; goose-pimples rose all over our alabaster en- 
casement, as big as hazlenuts ; we turned our face to- 
ward camp, and bounded over or else tore through ev- 
ery obstacle, until we landed heels-over-head across the 
dinner basket. 

The poetical portion of the party were, by this time, 
so busily engaged in picking sand-flies out of their eyes, 
shaking big black ants out of their skirts, and the males^ 
in choking wasps that had gotten well up inside their 
pant-legs, that they did not discover our return to have 
been conducted in any other than an ordinary manner. 
We tied strings around the bottom of our breeches-legs, 
to keep out the larger classes of insects, while we sat 
down to fan ourself with our hat and enjoy the picnic. 

It was not long until the balance of the fern-lovers 
reached camp — some with bugs up their backs, others 
with green worms inside their collars, and all of them 



Go UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

pretty well eaten into by mosquitoes; one or two had 
also " got their hand right onto a snake ! " and they 
were settled. After all hands had gotten most of the 
bugs, beetles, ants and worms outside of their inside, it 
was agreed that dinner-time had arrived, and so the 
good things were unpacked, and the lemonade distil- 
lery put under way. Getting everything spread out on 
the grass, one person was appointed as steward, while 
the party drew nigh and began the enjoyment of that 
most famous of all pleasures, eating a picnic dinner, — 
The steward's business was to take two little sticks and 
keep the bugs out of the victuals; if a grand-daddy- 
long-legs got into the butter (and several of him did get 
in) he was to get him between the two sticks and spar 
him out ; when the bugs would run under a slice of 
bread, he was to excavate for them ; he had to shovel 
the ants out of the sugar with one stick, and the dear 
little green worms that dropped down from the boughs 
overhead, were elevated with the other; the rest of the 
party could keep most of the flies and mosquitoes out 
of their faces with one hand, and delight their respect- 
ive palates with the other. The meal over, the party 
raked things together in a general pile, dumped them 
into the baskets, the steward — that was ourself — hastily 
drank a pint of lemonade, — swallowing four large and 
one small bug and a measuring- worm — grasped a sand- 
wich, and the whole company broke for the boat, and 
finished the day " fooling around " on the lake in the 
broiling hot sun. 

At eventide, just as the sun was throwing his last 
shafts of golden light over the enchanting landscape, 



ODD HOURS. 6 1 

the robin was dropping the last worm into the open 
mouth of her young, and the looing kine came march- 
ing homeward, keeping pace with the tinkling bells, our 
party stepped ashore ; that is, they staggered out onto 
the pebbly beach, what was left of them ; then we sort 
of corkscrewed our way toward the ivy-covered cot, 
where we may be found hereafter, except in business 
hours. 

The party could not consent to disperse from the 
beach, however, without " voting unanimously that it 
had been one of the most thoroughly enjoyable, and in 
every way successful picnics of the season." Of course 
it was. 



At 15, we imagine ourselves to be about as sharp 
and cute as a freshly-honed razor At 20, we con- 
sider our advice and judgment as indispensible to a suf- 

ferin' world At 30, light begins to break in, and we 

experience the first glimmer of the fact that we are 

fools At 40, we are sure of it At 50, if there be 

any good in us, we shall have exhibited it, in a modest 

way, during the last eight years At 60, our advice 

begins to be valuable At 70, the only ten years of 

our life that have been of solid benefit to the world will 
have been passed After that, we go around, pick- 
ing up pins, and telling what wonderful things we have 
accomplished. 




62 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 




KILLLNG WOLVES. 




EVERAL reports have reached us of late that 
wolves were too thick for the comfort of the 
farmers' pigs and sheep along the " ravine belt " 
of country skirting the Mississippi valley in this region. 
Needing a little exercise, anyway, and wolf-hunting be- 
ing our favorite pastime, whenever they happen to 
be comeatable, we resolved to steal quietly out into a 
few of the neighboring ravines, and spend one day at 
least in relieving a neighborhood or two from the dread 
scourge that was nightly making such havoc among the 
lambs and innocent little pigs, and things. The upper 
edge of the sun had but barely peaked across the land- 
scape, when we entered the mouth of a densely wooded 
hollow, with towering bluffs on either side, holes and 
caves to be frequently seen away up along their craggy 
sides. We had fixed ourself with all the modern appli- 
ances for carrying on a day's warfare against the savage 
monsters we were anxious to encounter — our old and 
trusty muzzle-loader, hatchet, carving-knife, a couple of 
doughnuts, etc. Our path lay through thickets of 
prickly-ash, over logs and uneven ground, and in fact 



ODD HOURS. 63 

was as fine " wolf-ground " as we had ever seen. Of 
course, we had never seen much wolf country, anyway, 
—not any, in fact — and had never hunted wolves be- 
fore, except in theory, and our taste for this kind of 
sport was only a theoretical one ; but in theory we had 
frequently hunted wolves, and slaughtered a large num- 
ber in the same way. Every thing went smoothly for 
half a mile, and the prospect of putting into practice 
our pet theories as applied to ridding a neighborhood of 
wolves seemed bright, if fortune would only bring on 
the animals. The first sensation experienced took place 
just as we were clambering over a big log ; an animal 
suddenly sprung out from beneath it, and the sensation 
being so suddenly developed, rather jarred our nervous 
system, and we rolled over and brought up head first in 
a drift on the other side ; our presence of mind, howev- 
er, never went astray in the emergency— not to speak 
of— for in less than two minutes we had recovered from 
the " start," like, and had dug our gun out of the snow 
and backed up against a tree ready to deal out death in 
quantities to suit. We felt real queer, like, and our 
heart, or gizzard, we scarcely knew which, kind of went 
flippey-te-flop and our hair felt kind of stiff; we con- 
cluded the queer feelings, as we stood there watching 
for animals, with knees knocking together, were occa- 
sioned by our stomach being out of order, or by our 
having forgotten to take our usual dose of cough medi- 
cine before leaving home. Peering around underneath 
the adjacent jungle we discovered the animal that had 
created such a sudden jerk of our nerves, demurely look- 
ing up at us, and to our great relief,— or, no ! —to our 

9 



64 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

great disgust, it was no more formidable a creature than 
a rabbit. At just abont this moment, our ears were 
greeted by a long, wailing, rather plaintive howl. 
which came down from the head of the gorge, and it 
reverberated from rock to crag, and finally died away 
on the frosty air of the broad valley below. It was the 
musical note of the wolf, and we were soon to be in the 
midst of our favorite game ! Could we wait ? Could 
we hold ourself within bound s until we had traversed 
the fourth of a mile that lay between us and the scene 
of our first carnage, which was to wake the hills with 
the dying howls of a bloody monster ? We resolved to 
try, and so sat down on the log to get rested and fix our 
carving-knife. In our fall we had bent it double and 
just as we had gotten it put into business shape again, 
there was such an unearthly howl emitted from the 
throat of that wolf, as actually raised our cap and near- 
ly froze our feet ; this time the brute was much nearer 
to us, and we actually began to feel kind of lonesome — 
lonesome for fear there was only o?ie wolf instead of six 
or seven ; our desire was to slaughter several at once, 
because our time was somewhat valuable that day, as 
we had just happened to remember that it was the day 
one of our subscribers had promised to come in and 
settle up his subscription, and it was a stupid thing in 
us to have forgotten it — the poor man would come, in 
our absence, and meet with a sore disappointment, un- 
less we hastened homeward; another thing, our feet 
were becoming colder, and we happened to think how 
subject we were to chilblains, besides our stomach being- 
out of order. Then, again, the weather had turned 



ODD HOURS. 65 

more severe, and if we should happen to catch a heavy 
cold and it settled on our lungs, resulting in consump- 
tion, spinal meningitis, pneumonia, pleurisy, or chapped 
hands, terminating fatally, what would become of those 
we depended on for a living, and for protection, in this 
uncharitable world ? Our duty in the premises seemed 
plain, and we resolved, for once in our life, to try self- 
denial, and resist the temptation of slaughtering that 
wolf until another day. And, for fear we might yet be 
tempted to tarry — despite our conviction of duty as re- 
lated to the man who was to pay two dollars for his pa- 
per — we turned our face homeward, and struck into a 
majestic canter through the groves of prickly-ash. To 
still further tempt us to remain among the wolves, and 
amuse ourself among scenes of blood, the animal — now 
quite near — gave one of his most ''searching" wails; 
but our inclination to duty prevailed, and to facilitate 
our progress we laid our old gun down somewhere in 
that valley, took off our coat — our cap had already taken 
a rest on some thorny bush — and came right down to a 
most effective gallop, for fear we might be too late to 
meet our friend who was to pay his subscription — and 
the poor man might not have another opportunity, as 
we had often known to be the case, apparently, at least. 
Our effort was rewarded, so far as being on time was 
concerned ; for, as we came pacing through the alleys 
of the suburbs and the back fence of our own potato- 
patch we discovered that the sun was only even with 
the house tops. Upon landing in the bosom of our nu- 
merous and astonished family, steaming like a portable 
Vesuvius, we explained that we had to return home to 




66 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

see a man, and that we had sent our coat and cap to 
the grasshopper-sufferers, and traded our gun off for a 
wolf-dog — the dog to be delivered next fall. " When 
duty calls 'tis our's to obey " — and it should always be 
done with all our might. 



ROCKLNG THE CRADLE. 



E SHALL believe the scholar when he as- 
serts that there is science in all things. We 
'have only recently made up our mind to re- 
ceive such an odd doctrine, but have to believe now in 
the prevalence of science, or '• sleight " or talent, even 
in so simple a thing as rocking the cradle. This dis- 
covery was made by the writer only a few days ago. 
The " help " was gone, baby cross, dinner behind, and 
weather hot. Taking in the situation at a glance, we 
tendered our services, and volunteered to appease the 
wrath of the youngster and peel the potatoes. We had 
often seen mothers rock the cradle with their toe and 
sew for hours at a stretch, with no apparent exertion. 
This was our plan, and to carry it out — so far as rocking 
the cradle and peeling the potatoes was concerned — we 
assured wife, was a most trivial matter if thereby we 
could assist her any. After depositing the little junior 
in the cradle, and getting it all squared around so the 
rockers would be lengthwise of the boards, we seated 
ourself within easy range, and called for the pan of po- 



ODD HOURS. 67 

tatoes and the butcher knife. No sooner said, than a 
six-quart milk pan filled with " Celtic lemons" and wa- 
ter was deposited on our knees, and we squared ourself 
for business. We stuck the knife into the end of a po- 
tato, and placed our foot on the rocker just as the ex- 
pectant youngster was making up his mind that the old 
man was slower than molasses in January. We tore the 
skin off one side of the potato and started the cradle on 
a regular canter; we were a leetle too rash, however, 
and the cradle slid off sort of diagonally, and we had to 
put the pan down on the floor and move our chair a 
little. All set again, we moved on the cradle and cut 
our right ear with the butcher-knife. Our legs were 
gradually failing, and the motion of the cradle was be- 
coming very peculiar again, and it was evident that 
something must be done — either we must take a rest or 
the baby would have to be lashed to the cradle to keep 
it from skipping out on the floor. W T e went around on 
the other side, so as to " change hands " with our feet, 
and that was a fatal move to our success. Giving the 
cradle a lively jump, to make up for lost time, our feet 
slipped off, we lost our balance and went headlong over 
the pan, struck the cradle with such a crash that it cap- 
sized, and the potatoes flew in every direction. Then 
there was another little matinee, engaged in by the 
whole family, and we cut a fearful gash in our thumb, 
with the knife. Then we sub-contracted that potato- 
peeling, tied up our thumb, and went out to look at the 
garden, where we concluded that " woman was an an- 
gel," sure enough ; for nothing less than an angel could 
do, for months at a stretch, what we had failed to ac- 



6S UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

complisb, in the face of good intentions and a broad 
and deep determination. 




THE SEASON HAS BEGUN. 



r HE real fact that winter had actually tucked up 
her white linen, to keep her balmoral out of the 
mud, and had emigrated to her summer home 
on Hudson Bay, did not seem to be realized by any- 
body until last Monday morning. But, as old Sol crept 
from his dewy bed in the east, we could almost feel that 
something new was taking place in the outer world. At 
an unusually early hour a neighbor rattled the door of 
our humble castle, and said he wanted his garden-rake 
that we borrowed last year, and without stopping to 
make any great amount of toilet, we said " Don't look," 
and poked his rake through the crack in the door. A 
wagon just then went by with a rattle and bang, while 
the driver cracked his whip and sang, " The beautiful 
meadows so green." We rushed to the bedside of our 
family and said to the other half of us that there seemed 
to be something astir more than common, and it must 
be that something was stirring that hadn't stirred since 
things quit stirring in the autumn. We suggested that 
the bulk of our family arouse without the ordinary ar- 
gument, and as soon as we could get into our two-dollar 
pants we'd rush out and put on the teakettle and things, 
and mash up some wood to boil the potatoes. Just as 



ODD HOURS. 69 

we were waltzing around in an irregular circle, on one 
toot, trying to strike our center of balance, so the foot 
that was in the air could be sent home through the 
twisted trouser leg, another shock was heard at the door 
and another neighbor cried out, " Where's that wheel- 
barrow ? " That call ruined the effort to even get half 
of our pants where they would do the most good, and 
losing temporary control of our anatomy, we fell over a 
chair. Then we said to the man that his wheelbarrow 
was out by the dog house ; that if he found any part of 
it broken, we'd fix it with him if we could ever get our 
wardrobe in a suitable position to appear before the 
public. We heard him saying something about lending 
wheelbarrows, as a regular business, and saw him through 
a crack carrying on his shoulder the remains of what 
had been an able-bodied barrow at some time previous. 
After a time we rushed out, and sure enough all nature 
was animated. The birds were singing "fit to kill." 
the dog had treed the cat, the hens were singing their 
morning /ay, men were going to and fro, the cows were 
lowing, and spring time was bursting out in all its efful- 
gent effulgency. Every body seemed to have gotten the 
start of us in the " spring opening," and we resolved to 
catch up by dint of energy. While the morning meal 
was being prepared we rushed down street and hired a 
laborer to engage in the preparation of our garden, 
bound not to be outdone by our neighbors in industry. 
We found a man — a gardener — of Irish parentage, by 
the name of Ole Jughandleson. We spent the day in 
good honest toil, and at eventide that garden told a tale 
of labor. We stood faithfully by all day long, holding 



7 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

the hoe while Mr. Handleson used the spade and the 
spade, while he used the hoe. We also lightened his 
labor by telling him fairy stories and making suggestions 
from our store of intelligence as related to gardening. 
By thus laboring, all our spare time, we feel sure that 
our summer's work will grow up with its usual results 
by the time snow flies again. We expect to raise a vast 
amount of garden truck this season, besides engaging 
largely in floriculture — comprising a bed of poppies, 
several stalks of hollyhocks, a row of morning-glories, 
and a fence-corner of sunflowers. 



Monday — washing. Tuesday — ironing. Wednes- 
day — baking. Thursday — washing out a few things 
that were overlooked. Friday — scrubbing. Saturday 
— doing a vast amount of all kinds of work, by way of 
preparing to enjoy a little comfort the rest of the week. 
This constitutes the labor of the weaker sex, who are 
always expected to look charming, and wear a smile of 
contentment and happiness. 




ODD HOURS. 



7i 





HOME, SWEET HOME. 



S WHO went raving, and wrote " There's no 
Place Like Home," it has been ascertained, 
never had a home — he traveled and peddled 
bedbug medicine. Still, we fake considerable stock in 
his song, anyway — though we presume there are some 
homes that offer no more comfort than a seat on a horn- 
et's nest, so far as real peace is concerned. But the 
song didn't mean that sort of a home, any more than 
"A Life on the Ocean Wave " meant a first-class case 
of seasickness. It meant the real old sort of headquar- 
ters, where at least a fair show of love and affection was 
kept up — especially when there were visitors around. 
A home where you had lived so long that everything 
around the ranch had become familiar; so that you 
could go out and chop firewood just as well where it was 
as where it wasn't. Where the old fireplace and mantle 
always looked the same; and the same old cat would 
sit every evening and look silly, until a mouse squeaked 
in the opposite corner; where the old wooden clock 
ticked once about every three minutes, and where you 
sat in the corner reading the almanac without interrup- 
tion, except when a spark flew out and lit on your bare 
10 



72 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

foot, or when wife would inform you that her knitting- 
needles had gotten so bent that she must have a new- 
set ; or, by your boy Zeb telling you that his steers had 
" turned the yoke " six times in five minutes that after- 
noon and that he wanted you to say it was all right to 
tie their tails together — and then he'd stop that non- 
sense on them, unless their tails gave way. Such a home 
was undoubtedly in the mind's eye of the author of 
" Home, Sweet Home," and that's why his song was so 
homely. Home is a big thing, for a small affair, and it 
isn't always the biggest that have the most to be thank- 
ful for ; some homes, the less you have of them the great- 
er should be your thankfulness, and that kind of a home 
can't be bettered much short of a revolution. It takes 
more money to make a home than' it used to, and you 
get less home at that. A chimney with a log house, 
chinked with mud, built on one side of it, a square ta- 
ble, four splint-bottom chairs, a gourd, a skillet, a pair 
of dog-irons and a family dye-tub used to stand witness 
to more comfort than the kind they have, now, that cost 
a pile. There is much that might be said about " home," 
and there has been much said about home that wasn't 
really necessary, and as it is away past supper-time now, 
we shall say no more about it till another time, because 
if we don't report at our hearthstone pretty quick we'll 
hear something about home that would raise the dust 
out of a pair of saddle-bags. 



ODD HOURS. 73 





CHRISTMAS GIFTS. 



S IT will not be long now before Christmas will 
tbe here, and thinking that many of our readers 
might want to know how to make various little 
articles suitable for presents, and that will be compara- 
tively inexpensive as well as useful and ornamental, we 
have thought ot a few articles that might be made at 
home, during the long evening hours now upon us : 

Foot Rug— A very neat foot rug can be made by tak- 
ing an old gunny-sack, that isn't fit for anything else, 
cut it into square pieces of equal size, so as not to waste 
any of the goods ; quilt them together and bind around 
the edge with a piece of corn colored calico or pink 
flannel. Wash the old sack before cutting it up, as they 
are most generally pretty dirty; either wash it or paint 
it a sky-blue, as most convenient. 

Match Safe — A very neat match safe may be made 
by taking an old sardine can, cut a hole two inches 
square out of the flat side ; tie a tow string into each 
corner — making the hole to put the string through with 
a nail, — and hang it near the stove suspended from a 
tin tack. The tack must be a tin tack as a common 
one would mar the general effect A match safe made 



74 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

in this way is very pretty and substantial, and can be 
made at a trifling outlay. 

Pen Wiper — A pen wiper is always fashionable as a 
Christmas present — at least we always see them — and 
is an appropriate gift to make to any of your friends 
who can write ; if they cannot, you might encourage 
them to learn by giving them one. Take the top of an 
old stocking — one the foot of which is hopelessly gone. 
— scallop the edge all round, and put a handle on it 
made of speckled calico. This will be found very neat 
but not gaudy. 

Pin Cushion — This indispensible article for the toilet 
table can be made by taking a red corn-cob and insert- 
ing it in a long narrow " poke " of sawdust ; or if you 
wish to preserve its agricultural character, use bran or 
meal instead of saw dust though this will increase the 
cost somewhat. The covering of this should also be 
made of speckled calico, as it will then have the ap- 
pearance of always being full of pins, regardless of the 
facts. The cob is only for the purpose of keeping it 
stiff and substantial. This is one of the neatest things 
we know of. We can scarcely explain why the cob 
should be a red one, but somehow we feel that it should 
be a red cob. 

Arabian Slippers — There is nothing nicer for a holi- 
day present to a gentleman friend than a pair of slip- 
pers. A very tasty pair may be made by taking a cast- 
off pair of boots and cutting away all but the sole and 
the front part of the upper leather — leaving them in a 
semi-sandal shape. They are always easy to put on or 
take off, and never chafe the heel ; a bow of red ribbon 



ODD HOURS. 75 

on the instep will be found to add considerably to their 
appearance, and be a good thing for the cat to play with 
an the evening. The Arabian slipper is a very popular 
pattern wherever it is worn. 

Smoking Cap — A very attractive smoking cap can be 
made, at a nominal cost, by cutting a chunk off the leg 
of an old pair of pants — high or low on the leg as the 
size of the head may require ; gather in one end of the 
section — which may be about sixteen and a half inches 
long — and ornament it with a cardinal-red tassel made 
of little strips of calico torn up and fastened to the top 
of the cap in a sort of bass-relief, A band of blue flan- 
nel around the lower edge will hide the selvage and lend 
a picturesque appearance, particularly from a distance. 

Foot Stool — Take an empty box of starch and cushion 
it with a piece of hit-and-miss rag carpet on the top ; 
put a deep frill of yellow calico around the upper edge 
and paper the sides and ends with oak-grain wall paper. 
This kind of a foot stool will be found very comfortable, 
and will add greatly to the appearance of a parlor. 

There are many very pretty Hide articles that can be 
made, without cramping your pocket, and the above 
are only given to indicate a long list that we might 
name, but which these will remind you of. We believe 
in making presents to friends when the holidays come 
round each year. We would rather make a present to 
any one, than to do anything else — except to receive 
one. Of the two, however, the latter is our " weak- 
ness." 



76 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





TEACHLNG SCHOOL. 



'T WAS the first school they ever had in that 
j«U new region ; there were about thirty children of 
all ages in the neighborhood, some of whom 
had lately come on from the East, and were more or 
less " up " in book learning. The old heads of families 
convened at one of the settlers' houses, and Joe Bailey 
— who wore the most dashing buckskin breeches, and 
a coonskin cap that had two or three more rings in the 
tail which hung doAvn behind, than any of the rest — 
was chosen chairman of the meeting. Your " Uncle," 
who was then a very young man, was designated as 
secretary. The chairman stated that the objeet of the 
meeting was to " Take into cancelation the idea of rollin' 
a school house together an' hevin' a school for the chil- 
dren to go to school into," and told the assembled pi- 
oneers that if they had anything to say, to say it then, 
or forever arter to hold their yawp. The young secre- 
tary — who had found a stump of a lead pencil and got- 
ten a newly made clapboard, and bashfully assumed the 
position of recorder, —made a note of this on the clap- 
board and during the five minutes of diffidence and si- 
lence that followed he drew the picture of a dog. 



ODD HOURS. 77 

After a while Bill Simson stood up, and after knock- 
ing the ashes out of his pipe, remarked : " Ef we come 
here to fix things about a school house, I say we'd bet- 
ter fix things ; I'll haul as many logs as any other man 
in the woods, an' I kin send as many children to the 
school as any body else." 

Bob Oles slammed his coonskin cap down on the 
puncheon floor, and says he : " Thar isn't no man in 
this settlement, nor no other settlement, as will haul any 
more logs than I will ; I want a school house, ef I can't 
read myself — an' 'tis just them that can't read that know 
the good of book larmn'; there's Sam Ames, settin' thar ; 
he can't read no more'n I kin, an' he knows he'd give 
six months of work ef he could read readin' letters an' 
write his own name." 

Sam said that was so, and said he would rive out the 
clapboards tor the roof as his share, and Dave McAr- 
naught said he would maul out the puncheons for the 
floor. Con Wallace said he'd work out the stuff for the 
door, and the casings, and the sash for the windows : 
and the old man Gilson said he'd trade off skins enough 
to furnish the glass. So, very soon all arrangements 
about the house were made, and it wasn't two weeks 
until the the school house was ready for business. 

Before the meeting adjourned, however, the question 
of who was to be the teacher was brought up and dis- 
cussed. There seemed to be but two available candi- 
dates for this honor, in the neighborhood — a young girl, 
and your uncle. It was finally put to vote ; the secre- 
tary's cap was made the ballot-box, and those in favor 
of the girl for teacher were requested to vote half acorns. 



;£ UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

and those in favor of the secretary to vote whole acorns;. 
We got two majority, which result, in the light of latter 
days, we imagine might have been because we were at 
the meeting and the girl wasn't.. 

School opened in due time and we cut four healthy 
blue-beech gads on our way to the institute. When we 
arrived we found most of the scholars on hand, includ- 
ing the girl who had been our rival for the position of 
teacher. We entered with a frown, and stood the young; 
trees up in the corner,. and told the school there wasn't 
any "bluff"' about that, but that we intended to skin 
the whole outfit if they didn't knuckle tight. 

We didn't know very much about teaching school, 
because we hadn't attended school ourself any to speak 
of. But we had an idea it consisted principally in 
showing the scholars who was boss, and in keeping or- 
der. We arranged them around on the benches, ac- 
cording to size, because we thought it would be kind 
of nice to have them uniform, in case of visitors. All 
the old school-books in the neighborhood had been 
gathered up, and even then there was only one school- 
book, of any kind, for every three scholars, and we had 
to piece out on half a dozen missionary testaments, as 
far as they would go. These we gave to the boys who 
looked to us to be best calculated for preachers — and 
we impressed upon their minds the noble aims they 
should aspire to ; and advised them to strive hard dur- 
ing the term to commit their testaments to memory, 
and otherwise fit themselves to become missionaries to 
the South Sea Islands, where they were so badly need- 
ed; that although they might be stewed or fried for 



ODD HOURS. 79 

breakfast by the poor ignorant cannibals, not to allow 
such a trifling matter to dampen their ardor — because, 
if they did that with them, their acts would speak loud- 
er than any words in the cannibal language to the effect 
that they were good missionaries. 

Our lecture to our missionary students had a very 
good effect on them, for the time being, and they 
seemed fully impressed with the seriousness and " high- 
ness " of their calling. The first day we found it neces- 
sary to chastise the whole school, excepting the theo- 
logical students and the big girl. 

The next morning we brought a fresh invoice of gads, 
and unbuttoned the top button of our red flannel shirt, 
and thumped our breast savagely a few times in front 
of the school. Our seat was off in the end of the apart- 
ment, and after giving them a very severe lecture on 
their duty to their teacher, who was suffering so much 
for them, we retreated to our corner, to " lay low " for 
the villain who should furnish us with the first job for 
that day. 

We had been sitting for a few minutes engaged in 
" mending " a quill-pen for one of the scholars with our 
barlow-knife, when a great black hornet slowly rose from 
the floor, some place near us. We coolly took our 
coon-skin and mashed him down violently to the floor, 
close to our seat, and rubbed him out of existence, and 
the scholars tittered to see how nicely and how bravely 
we had disposed of him. About the time we slammed 
that hornet down on the floor, two or three others came 
out from somewhere about there and made a pass at 
us; we told the school not to get uneasy, because we 
ii 



80 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

could clean out any four hornets in that section, and 
with that we went for them with both hands and both 
feet ; pretty soon one of the terrible insects backed up 
against our lower lip, and we felt as if a ten-penny nail 
had been shot into us. By this time about a peck of 
hornets boiled out from under our seat ; several of them 
meandered up our trowser-legs, and several more got m 
their work about our head, until within a minute from 
the beginning of the battle, our head looked like a full- 
moon in August, and still the hornets kept increasing 
in numbers. The scholars were piling out at the win- 
dows and door, whooping and laughing fit to split. 
Pretty soon our eyes began to close, and our ears were 
as big as saddle-flaps, and our lower limbs were crippled 
beyond measure. We finally made one grand break for 
liberty, and made out to find our way home with one 
eye before it went clean shut. 

At the end of two weeks we were able to get about a 
little and then learned, for the first time, how we came 
to get horneted so effectually : One of the missionary 
students had become incensed because we walloped a 
chum of his the first day, and he entered into a con- 
spiracy with the rest, to pay us off. He procured an 
immense hornet's nest, plugged the hole up, tied a string 
to the plug, placed the nest just back of our pedagogi- 
cal seat and had the string run along the floor by the 
wall to his seat ; the rest can be imagined. We re- 
signed our position in favor of the big girl, and our as- 
pirations have never since run in the direction of school 
teaching, and we don't like young men who only say 
they'd like to study for the missionary business. 



ODD HOURS. 8 1 




THE BIRDS HAVE GONE. 




E DIDN'T really notice it until the other 
jday. But it is a lamentable fact that the 
birds have flown, and left our groves and 
thickets silent and sad. It is really too bad ; we love 
the little songsters, and our heart goes out after them in 
their long flight to southern climes; we long for the 
spring time's return, even now; for, in the absence of 
thousands of birds, our landscape is shorn of its greatest 
fascination, and even life, itself, seems to bear in it a 
blank space. As the approach of cold, cheerless winter 
nears us, they mount the branches of the fading trees, 
sing us their sweet, farewell song as if to say, " Be of 
good cheer, kind friends, and when daisies come again, 
we shall return to your homes and make you glad." 
Then, in little companies, they soar away, and are 
" lost to sight, though to memory dear." Life, even in 
this cold, cheerless, unfriendly and selfish world, has 
many charms, placed here by the provident care of 
Him, who even notes the sparrow's fall, and cares for 
the well-being of all his creatures. One of the most 
perfect charms in life may be found in the cheery, inno- 
cent life of the birds. They are messengers of peace, 



82 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

and bear tranquility to the restless, troubled spirits of 
humanity. They are types of innocence; and while 
their joyful notes bring good cheer to the heart, their 
life is an example which may well be imitated, by those 
who call themselves the lords of creation. With the 
birds of song above us, and the flowers of beauty be- 
neath and about our feet — with the mighty loveliness of 
the mellow heavens overhead, and the grandeur of Na- 
ture spread out upon every hand — men ought to be bet- 
ter than they are, and ought to grow better faster than 
they do. 



CHARMLNG. 



OW grand it is to rise in the dewy morning, 
just as the artists of the air are at work on the 
eastern horizon, putting on the " putty-coat " 
and getting their paints ready to throw in the colorings 
and shadings, incident to a sunrise in this beautiful re- 
gion; just as the winged cherubs of the sky are sowing, 
from their fairy baskets, the glinting frost-beams — the 
early sunlight throwing athwart its rounds of brightness, 
making a jeweled ladder that at least the imagination 
may climb from earth to heaven. The earth with its 
maiden frost is brilliant and crisp below, the foliage of 
the trees hangs in mottled beauty, proving that inno- 
cence is always prettiest in death." In life, the green 
bowers of Nature served well their day, in death their 
beauty is only the more lovely. The busy, fretful and 




ODD HOURS. 83 

fretted world has not risen yet, and but few know of the 
transcendant beauty of the hour. Few realize that 
there is a time m the day, during which they can rise 
from their beds, and comparatively alone, thank their 
Maker for all the blessings and all the mercies showered 
upon them from hour to hour — from day to day. That 
time is when morning is distilling her dew upon the 
parched and care-worn earth ; when every leaf is shed- 
ding its falling tear in atonement for the day just gone 
into an eternity of time with its record of human life, 
and when every blade of grass bears a glistening jewel 
of purity as an emblem of what God wishes to be our 
guide during the coming day. The world is hushed, 
and its troubled sounds have been at rest in buried for- 
getfulness, and been purified by the holiness of silence. 
Grief has smothered her sobs, anger has broken its 
darts, and the heart's best throbs have beaten in unison 
with heavenly chords, and replaced its venom with love, 
tenderness and charity. Thank God for the pure bright 
morning- hour, when all Nature stands drenched from 
its stains, and a beautiful world invites the tread of man 
to its dew-damp carpet, and jeweled studio. 




84 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





HUNTING HENS 1 NESTS. 



\ HERE was a time in every man's life when all 
he was fit for was to hunt hens' nests. Every 
stage in life finds humanity good for something, 
but fit for nothing else. During the five years of life 
that a boy is only fit to prospect for eggs, is probably 
about the most enjoyable epoch in his existence. He 
knows his business to a professional nicity arid he is, 
very properly proud of his knowledge. He loves to 
have it said of him that he can flank more eggs, and 
fresher eggs, than any boy of his age in the neighbor- 
hood. To allow a nest to exist undiscovered until the 
eggs become addled, and brown with age, is an unpar- 
donable botch in the profession, and one that requires 
years of scientific operation to overcome and wipe out 
in the annals of the neighborhood. No man can ever 
amount to much in after life who has not proven him- 
self an expert on hens* nests ; and those poor mortals 
who have never had nests around their homes to hunt, 
should receive pity from every sympathetic heart — for 
there has been a long, blank spot in their career. We 
do not wish to boast, nor intimate that we have accom- 
plished wonders in life ; but as the finder of the location 



ODD HOURS. 85 

of hens' nests, when a boy, we were, briefly immense. 
We kept a gauntlet lying around loose m our father's 
barn-yard for five years, and it was never taken up by 
any other boy, far or near. We could suck more eggs, 
too, and warmer eggs, than any one of no greater ex- 
perience. A boy whose father has a very large barn, 
with a score of mows, lofts, horse and cattle stables, calf 
and sheep sheds, to say nothing of a semi-underground 
story, damp, and dreary— meets with a thousand thrill- 
ing adventures and hair-breadth escapes whilst plying 
his vocation. He visits all the nooks and corners of the 
gigantic establishment that are above ground, once each 
day, and gathers the « fruit " of his labors into one grand 
pile; but that dark, cavernous apartment underneath 
the whole, he explores only about twice a week. This 
he does on hands and knees, for the most part, but in 
some portions is compelled to crawl on his belly, squeeze 
through cracks and holes, and poke his hands into all 
sorts of places to feel for eggs. He may sometimes get 
his hand on a lizzard in repose, or a house-snake that 
is lying coiled up enjoying a snooze. When this hap- 
pens, he never gallops out from under that barn, because 
there isn't room to strike that sort of a gait; but he gen- 
erally uses more or less agility in getting out where he 
can see eggs better; he rolls, tumbles, and knocks his 
head against the beams; he skins his nose and tears off 
both his suspenders, if he has two, which is seldom at 
that age. When he gets out where the barn stands a 
little higher, or the ground sits a little lower, he strikes 
into an impetuous canter, and # soon issues from the 
sheep-hole into the light of day. Just as he gives the 



86 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

last prance through that aperture, he is horrified at get- 
ting sight of the snake, that has a fast hold ot the seat 
of his jeans breeches. His blood, when he left the place 
where he first found that snake, was moderately chilled ; 
but now it becomes completely congealed, and his hair 
raises like the quills on the back of an agitated porcu- 
pine. He dare not look around, much less feel around ; 
he feels the snake wriggling about the calves of his legs 
and in an instant he makes one frenzied plunge for a 
neighboring straw-stack, ascends its steep side at a sin- 
gle bound, runs around the top of it, lies down and rolls 
over forty times in a twinkling, and then turns several 
hand-springs down the other side, in order to rub it off; 
he lands at the bottom all in a pile. He fears the rep- 
tile isn't off yet, however, and he begins a mad-waltz 
around the old wagon in the back yard and, just as he 
is about to become completely overdone, he gets anoth- 
er glimpse of the serpent, and finds that the object of 
his terror is nothing more venomous than his bu'sted 
and dangling suspender. 

Jonathan Peter now sits down to rest and refresh him- 
self; feels around to see if that was really all that was 
the matter, and finally, that he might be perfectly satis- 
fied, he takes off his trousers and peeks down through 
both legs, and turns the pockets inside out ; after climb- 
ing back into them again, he clambers up into the old 
wagon to sit down and think. He finally concludes 
that he wasn't frightened, anyway, — only a little startled, 
like. He thinks he will not go under the barn again 
that day, and doesn't "believe there's many eggs under 
there, at best — that is, not very many. After awhile he 



ODD HOURS. 87 

goes up into the barn, gets the peck-measure, puts into 
it the pile of eggs he has accumulated, up in the hay- 
mow, and then goes home. He tells his mother that 
he obtained nearly all those eggs under the barn, and. 
that it was so close, and smelled so badly under there, 
that he feels kind of sick at the stomach, and would 
like to have a piece of custard-pie. Under the circum- 
stances, truthful Jonathan Peter gets a large slice, and 
goes out and seats himself on the wood-pile, to cool off 
and eat his pie. 



THE OLD MAN. 



EETING an old man — in whose presence we 
always feel awed with respect — we cannot but 
try, for the moment, to look out upon life and 
the world through his vision. We may not behold 
things in the past, though, as he does ; we may not re- 
alize as he, how much of moment is in the present, nor 
see the view that he sees through the vista of the future 
— however much we may strive to fancy ourself in his 
place. Nevertheless, we feel sure we can partially group 
his views, and partially divine his thoughts of the com- 
ing time, and his memories of days gone by. Of his 
early life, but scattering scenes remain distinctly in his 
mind, but those that do, are more vivid, as seen in the 
twilight of lite, than they were in his noonday of vigor. 
Fondly does he now review the incidents of his boy- 
hood ; kindly does he recall the faces and friends of 
12 




88 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

early years, and longs to see them again, if living, and 
if dead, to meet them in paradise over the river that 
flows on the edge of Time ; with a sigh of sadness does 
he remember the home of his childhood, where the days 
of his journey were spent in which he took no thought 
of the morrow ; when his sharp little griefs were chased 
away to the clouds by the jewels of hope and joy con- 
stantly flowing in sprays of light from the fountain of a 
young and dauntless spirit ; how he dwells upon the old 
homestead, with its quaint furniture, and colonial sur- 
roundings ; the pastimes and playthings with which he 
whiled away the hours of thoughtless childhood and the 
irresponsible days of boyhood ; he oft drops a filial tear 
when viewing in their benignity, the kind parents who 
ever had a care for his comfort, and he lingers with a 
fervid memory of love upon that ever watchful, faithful 
and toiling mother, who first taught him who the Being 
was he must love even more than herself, and upon 
whom he must ever lean, and to whom he must ever 
look after she had said her last prayer at the bedside in 
his behalf. 

The present, he regards as fact, not fancy ; real, not 
imaginary ; a time of fearful moment, not a period to be 
frittered away amid the thoughtless gaieties of folly and 
fashion, and in idleness. The world, he beholds as a 
beautiful thing, with heavenly blessings pendant from 
every star, that may be had for the asking. He allows 
liberally for the lighter pleasures of the young, and still 
has ample room for an inexpressible wonder as to why 
so vast a proportion ot the golden present is totally lost, 
yea, worse than lost, by the anxious, surging throng; 



ODD HOURS. 89 

and as he gazes out in his mind upon the troubled peo- 
ple who thoughtlessly struggle for might or right in this 
pleasant but transient world, he heaves a deep sigh of 
sorrow as he realizes, alas ! how soon all these hundreds 
of millions of human souls will be crumbling to dust ; 
he breathes a silent prayer in their behalf and turns to 
view the beyond for himself, upon whose edge he al- 
ready totters. The journey marked out in the world 
for him by a finger called " Destiny," has been traveled, 
and with the world, he has but little or nothing more to 
do ; to adjust the final accounts of a life for himself, and 
pronounce a benediction of love on a world behind, is 
all that for him remains ; and, with his head whitened 
by the light of a dawning eternity he exclaims, " My 
work is done, I am ready ; Oh, Lord receive me into 
thy presence with mercy ! " He sees the glowing star 
of hope, dazzling in its heavenly brightness, now that 
his nearness to its possession has almost given him a 
seat in the golden Jerusalem where the King of an un- 
fathomable universe sits in love and in eternal glory. 
Bless the old man ! Respect his years, and revere the 
light reflected upon him and into the dark recesses of a 
fallen world from a throne he almost views, and which 
is, typically, made of burnished gold, studded with dia- 
monds, and rests upon a floor of srarry worlds beneath. 



-4* 



9 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





THE OLD WOMAN. 
OD bless the old Woma?i — the noblest title ev- 



>er conferred upon the patient, virtuous mem- 
bers of the sex who stand now, as ever, since 
history began, the light of the world and the salt of the 
earth. When we meet a kind old lady, and converse 
with her, we cannot but love the soul that responds in 
delicate diction, as fresh, pure and beautiful, as when it 
animated the now aged casket of clay, when it stood 
'neath the holly and orange blossoms of young maiden- 
hood. The study of her furrowed brow is one of deep- 
est interest; every sorrow, and every care of years, can 
be found plainly written in indellible wrinkles; the his- 
tory of every griet, of which the best of lives are so full, 
can be read in unmistakable lines ; the struggle of three 
score years, has left a sweet sadness sole occupant of 
the faded cheek, though the dimmed eyes look up with 
the frank, confiding look, that is the offspring of a stain- 
less life. Patiently she awaits the call that will summon 
her frow a life of usefulness and beauty, into the spark- 
ling palace reserved for the blest, whose shining spire is 
already daily visible on the hazy horizon of her nearly 
" beyond." She only clings to the world, because ol 



ODD HOURS. 91 

the few acts of good — the few errands of mercy — she 
can still confer upon those she loves. She says she can- 
not depart until the last act of love is done, that she can 
find possible to do here, and when at last her tired hands 
drop helpless upon her bosom, she smiles a fond fare- 
well, to loved ones, bestows an angel's blessing, and 
sweetly sleeps. Tenderly do we lay the expended form 
away in a tear-bathed tomb, there to rest until all the 
living and dead shall stand before their Maker— God. 
We feel, as we lower the precious remains into the 
soundless grave, that again we shall meet her; again 
we shall be greeted somewhere by her loving welcome, 
and again be soothed by her tender presence. We knotv 
that the earth that covers her from our gaze, shall not 
always stand a barrier between us — but that we shall 
again commune with the sweet soul that has gone 
away and left us, blessed but alone. We plant a tree 
at her head, from whose branches the birds will ever 
sing their morning songs of praise to God and Virtue ; 
we plant sweet flowers o'er her grave, and seek the re- 
tired spot where mother sleeps, when we are worn to 
grief by earth's sore fight, and are refreshed by the balm 
of a solemn silence, and a holy contemplation. God 
bless the old woman — the aged mother who carried 
from the world her full share of griefs, and left, in ex- 
change, an infinite number of priceless blessings. 




92 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 




A LITTLE CHILD. 



t||IJLHIS world produces no other beauty; no other 
QregjS object of interest ; no other more lovely nor lov- 
ffi^> able thing, than a bright, sweet, confiding little 
child. What heart has not strangely thrilled when a 
little one came to his knee at the day's close, placed its 
dimpled little hand in his, and looked up with that 
sweet, earnest, enquiring gaze, so nearly that of an an- 
gel, from another and better sphere ? Its clear blue eyes 
undimmed by tears of sorrow or remorse ; its face un- 
we feel, must yet be bruised and seared by the trials of 
clouded by the cares and struggles of the life upon which 
it has scarcely entered ; its happy smile and dimpled 
cheeks forming a picture too strangely interesting to be 
understood without being studied through eyes of love. 
When we place our arm around the precious little form 
and nestle it close to our breast, how a silent prayer, un- 
marred by feeble words, goes up in its behalf. How we 
become moved almost to tears, as we reflect upon the 
possible sorrows that the little darling may encounter in 
its path of life, and how we wonder where lies the road 
that these little feet must travel. How well we know, 
and how sorely we lament, that the throbbing little heart 



ODD HOURS. 93 

an earthly journey. We draw it closely, as if to pro- 
tect it, in advance, from the ills that experience has told 
us, beset the way, and that imagination paints, as we 
follow along, in our mind, the weary road that lies be- 
fore it. The softest pillow it knows, is the bosom of 
love, and the only guard from harm is the encircling 
arm in whose embrace it has nestled. Its clearest can- 
opy of contentment is the smile of affection from its pa- 
rent's face, and beneath the parental look of tender 
love, it sinks to peaceful slumber. All is quiet, and a 
confiding little soul is at rest ; we feel that we can al- 
most hear the soft rustle of its guardian angePs wings, 
as we lay it silently in its bed, and tenderly imprint a 
good-night kiss upon its parted and smiling lips, and ask 
God to guard our darling through the silent hours of the 
night. May its morning of life be one of golden hues, 
and every day a little eternity of joys; for, all too soon, 
it must come to the troubled current ; and in the midst 
of life's surging flood, you will have to bid it a sad fare- 
well, and leave it, whilst you go out of its sight into 
eternity's great, unexplored ocean. Love the little 
darling whilst you may. 




94 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 




ECHOES. 



7^/ii||| E HAVE the finest series of echoes about Du- 
'^pNES^luth that can, probably, be produced in this 
^s^w country. There are many of the glens and 
coves of Chester Creek, Lester River and St. Louis 
River, where it is absolutely unsafe to say anything, un- 
less it is something you would just as leave have poster- 
ity hear, as not. Right here in the city, there are only 
a very few spots where a locomotive dare blow its 
whistle at all. Because if it did, there is no telling when 
we would hear the last of it. Before they found out the 
peculiarity of this locality, several steam whistles were 
sounded in the wrong place, and though that was sev- 
erall years ago, their shrill sound still echoes among 
many of the rocky coves of the upper heights. One of 
the churches, which is favorably located for canyon 
echoes, rang its bell for Christmas morning service, and 
the echoes have kept up ever since so regularly that it 
keeps the faithful members of that church getting up at 
all hours of the night, and putting on their things at all 
hours of the day in response to its solemn call ; they 
may be seen at almost any hour going and coming to 
that church, in the full belief that it is a holy day, 



ODD HOURS. 95 

whether it occurs in the night or in the day time. There 
are several caves around here, where those interested in 
the study of echoes may go and hear about all the 
whistles and all the bells that were ever blown or rung 
at the head of Lake Superior. It is said to sound a 
good deal like a steam calliope when in the throes of 
death, or an ancient piano being performed upon by a 
pile-driver. We have, ourself, visited some of the can- 
yons along the streams above mentioned, and have been 
startled by the conversations going on in them, instigat- 
ed by thoughtless tourists. We have learned more of 
the true inwardness of the domestic life of a tourist than 
we ever dreamed was possible. Some of the sentences 
and paragraphs are of a startling character, and we 
should never have dreamed of such a state of affairs by 
simply seeing them smiling and smashing hash at the 
hotels — the very " old boy " is to pay in some of those 
families, as we learned, and the old head of the family 
who leered across at the brunette at the opposite, table, 
and the gay young wife who flirted her napkin over her 
left shoulder at the young goose-quill, who waxes his 
moustache and parts his hair in the middle, at the cor- 
ner of the room, are both getting the very divil up in 
the canyons — sure as you live. Some of the revelations, 
that are still echoing back and forth among the " hollow 
rocks " are just awful. Then, mix these up with quota- 
tions from Burns, Shakespeare, Mother Goose and oth- 
er poets, by the tallow-headed fellows who pour into 
the echo all they know, then the shout of the ladies and 
' hullo ' of the children, frequently interspersed by the 
wheezing of the asthmatic and hay-fever victims and 
x 3 



96 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

the howling of the consumptive, and it makes one of 
these canyons a most wonderful place to visit. Next 
season's tourists will, of course crowd these last year's 
sounds out into space, and we will have a new set of 
" funny things " to listen to — but their average is very 
similar. Echoes ? Duluth and vicinity has more and 
purer, louder and more terrific echoes than all the rest 
of the world combined ; and we wouldn't sell a single 
one of them at any price. We are rich, and don't have 
to. 



We notice an article in the papers to the effect that 
Pennsylvania cannot produce a poet — that no Pennsyl- 
vanian ever born could write poetry. Oh, pshaw ! 
Just listen to your " Uncle " for a moment I 

There was a man in our town, 

He owned a cat and dog ; 
Likewise his wife, a good old soul, 

Was the onwer of a cow and hog. 

The cat went crazy, the dog went mad, 
And the wife made fun of Reuben, — 

Her cow got choked, her dog died of bloat 
Then Reub. made fun o' the old woman. 

There, now, take it back ! thou villainous aesthete 
from Boston. We could " keep it up," in verse, by the 
mile ; but the above is proof enough to nail that lie be- 
fore it goes any further. Poetry ! — guess not. 



ODD HOURS, 97 





THE PREACHERS VISIT. 

IS probable that most middle-aged people 
who were raised in the rural " deestricts " of the 
old eastern States, can call to mind that longest- 
to-be-remembered event, in the days of their boyhood, 
the Preacher's visit to the home of their father. It was 
the event of the season, when the preacher would notify 
Deacon So-and-so, that upon the occasion of his next 
monthly visit he would make the Deacon's house his 
home — " no preventing Providence — Amen ! " 

Though it might be in the very center of the harvest 
season, the atmosphere in and about the Deacon's resi- 
dence would become, first cool and then cold, and then 
freezing, as the time for the preacher's visit drew nigh, 
and when the time finally arrived the boys around the 
house would feel just as though they were ready to be 
cut up, and sold by the stick. 

Take an Old School Presbyterian preacher, of twen- 
ty years' "practice," and in the particular age to which 
we refer, and if he couldn't freeze a midsummer sun- 
beam into an icicle in a minute and a quarter, then it 
was counted that there was a screw loose somewhere, 
and he wasn't fitted for the leadership of the quality of 



98 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

lambs that made up the pastoral flocks of those virtuous 
interior dee s trie ts. 

How well we remember the visits of old Parson Gild- 
ersleeve. He was a model preacher of that day and 
locality. His consistency was of the purest gristle — he 
was utterly without a fault as a preacher of the time. 
In his make-up had been used, dignity, reserve, religion 
and ice, in about equal parts, and all these had become 
thoroughly amalgamated and " set " by many years' 
service in the oldest kind of Old School Presbyterian - 
ism. 

Of course, his sermons were pretty much all the same 
thing, and extended, on an average, from " firstly " to 
" twenty-eighthly," beside from four to six " in conclu- 
sions." We never knew of any one who could remain 
awake long enough to hear the whole story, at any one 
sitting. 

The good wife of the Deacon always had the house 
in perfect order, days before the arrival of the saintly 
guest, and a general code was announced among the 
numerous family, as to what would be expected of them 
whilst the momentous occasion was " on." Every mem- 
ber of the household was duly rehearsed, and a general 
impression given to all, that if the slightest digression 
from the rules of behavior laid down during the presence 
of the holy man (done in ice) that, as a matter of course, 
it would be no less than a mortal sin and a whole life- 
time's repentance could scarcely wipe it off the slate. 

On the day of his expected arrival, a cautious head 
would be seen peering out from behind some breast- 
work, gazing down the lane to catch a sight of the " ad- 



ODD HOURS, 99 

vance." Punctuality was one of the virtues of those 
virtuous days, and in due time the long, gaunt figure of 
the preacher would be seen in the distance as, sitting 
bolt up-right on his bony old horse, he would draw 
near. He would sit up so stiff and straight, as he jogged 
along on his wobbling old mare, — who was also well 
versed in her duty, as became her momentous position 
in life — that it seemed as though he must have swal- 
lowed a liberty-pole. His dress was one that had gone 
to religious " seed " years before, though the garments 
had been brushed until they would fairly shine in their 
knapless "ellegance." A " dickey " front to his home- 
spun shirt, his neck encased in a black " stock '* which 
prevented his turning his head even had his profession 
warranted a wag of that important member. 

Arriving at the front bars, the host would greet him 
with almost a sacred silence and take off his saddle 
bags, which contained a few dough-nuts, a bible and 
half a dozen well-thumbed hymn-books, when the pro- 
cession of two would go to the house, the preacher in 
advance. Jonathan Edward, as he was prepared to do, 
would lead the sacred mare to the barn, divest her of 
saddle and bridle, give her water, a half a bushel of oats 
and bed her down with fine straw clear up to the top- 
end ol her precious tail. 

The decorum of that household during the stay of 
the " head of the church," was a spectacle of precision 
and frigidity second only to some scene that was more 
so, and was well calculated to destroy a boy, who felt 
as though he had a great big chunk of something in 
him that was just a little too funny for anything, but who 



ioo UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

was compelled by the surroundings to perish the 
thought. 

A sedate supper, with the bulk of the family in the 
background, tamily prayers and singing by the com- 
bined orchestra, then a noiseless retirement of the entire 
force. The next day, being the Sabbath, the family, 
headed by the preacher, started for the church on foot 
at a seasonable hour. The morning sermon lasted three 
hours; then Sabbath-school, then luncheon on dough- 
nuts around on the fences ; then a sermon of great pow- 
er, — that is, in length, — then home to a cold supper, 
and to feed the stock, preparatory to attending prayer- 
meeting in the evening. 

On Monday, the good man would pronounce a gen- 
eral blessing on the family, crawl up to the upper-deck 
of his demure old " bones," and gradually bump himself 
out of sight down the lane. Then, things would assume 
their wonted channel again, and the boys would find 
a relief and a joy in going out into the field to pick up 
and haul off stones, such as no one can realize who 
never had that kind of bringing up. 



A laundry sign in a California town bears the 
name, " Chin Gun." He is probably the daddy of all 
those peeple who are noted for "shooting off their 
mouth." 



e$&y 



ODD HOURS. 101 



"INDIAN SUGAR." 

The maple sugar days have come, the sweetest of the 

year, 
And in the shady sugar-bush, the joyous " whoop " we 

hear. 

The " noble red " rejoiceth much as the April winds 

come on ; 
He shoveth forth his patient squaw who works the whole 

day long. 

With little axe she hacks and cuts until the " sap " she 

finds, — 
Her lord lies snoozing in the sun and " hears God in 

the winds." 

She gathers in the liquid, sweet, and boils half down, or 

more, 
And then she strains and cleanses it down through her 

pinafore. 

And then she patiently " sugars off," — and prepares the 

sweetened feast, — 
And 'rouses up her other " half," who gorges like a 

beast. 

If any is left, she dippeth in, and the papoose " stuffs," 

as well; 
Day after day, thro' " Maple Time," they eat, and stuff, 

and " swell." 

And when the " sugar days " are gone, they " lick " the 

sugar-dish, 
And hie them to the crystal lakes, and settle down on 

fish. 



io2 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 



■ 4SJ 



NIGHT VOICES. 

As now, " I lay me down to sleep,"" 
The winds about my eottage weep ; 
The dark and silent hours of Nights 
Close my couch from human sight. 

Groaning voices, from without, 
Tell, in unknown tongue, about 
The gambols of unearthly forms 
On this sadden r d sphere of storms. 

Morpheus touches not mine eyes 
Whilst I list' to plaintive sighs, 
Borne to my ears on airy wings, 
Telling me of heavenly things. 

E'en the shrieking, rushing blast 
So chains my soul's attention fast. 
That awe-inspiring fear, is sweet, 
As my soul, its voices greet. 

And, when the storm- wails slowly die, 
And zephyrs' voice begin to sigh ; 
A soft, sweet story, they impart 
That sooth's the sore and tired heart. 

They speak of golden realms above, 
Where, dove-like, rests the Queen of Love,- 
Bear tidings sweet from her who's left 
Me here, alone, below — bereft. 




ODD HOURS. ,o 3 

When, with eager, earnest strain, 
I strive to catch the words, in vain, 
I seem to see the face, once more, 
My angel-mother always wore. 

The zephyrs sigh away to rest, — 
Leaving their imprint in my breast. 
The darken 'd world is still and calm, 
Bathed in heaven's sparkling balm. 

I gaze out thro' the glassy pane, — 
Wond'ringly at the starry plain. 
I fain would find her safe retreat, 
Who taught me, kneeling, to repeat ; 

" Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep j 
If I should die before I wake, 
I pray the Lord my soul to take." 



A systematic effort is said to be making to intro- 
duce " smelt "—a kind of fish— into our lakes. We side 
with the Inter- Ocean in raising our voice against intro- 
ducing smelt into our chain of lakes. Lake Michigan, 
especially around Chicago, has already too much smell 
and while, the waters of Superior are now sweet and 
wholly free from smelt, we want to keep them so. 



-^^Xfc-4-s- 



14 



io 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





A POET WRECKED. 

OU might just as well undertake to occupy the 
same car-seat with a four-barreled galvanic bat- 
tery, carrying a hundred pounds of steam, with 
all the connecting wires wound about your legs, if your 
nature is at all sympathetic, as to get locked in with a 
poet; the effect is, or would be, somewhat similar, as 
we imagine. 

We had no idea the fellow was a poet, when we 
squeezed down along side of him in the car-seat and 
placed our " grip " underneath our feet for a foot-stool. 
Then we turned and asked him if he had any objection 
to our cramming ourself and baggage into the position 
just occupied. He pushed his long hair back over his 
collar, so his ear wouldn't get tangled, as he turned and 
looked us full in the face and remarked : 

Nay, plebean, no ill can prove consequent j 
Thine eye seems weak and innocent. 

We said thank you, and kept one eye on him. Not 
being thoroughly satisfied that our seat-mate wasn't an 
escaped lunatic, we concluded to " tap " him again : 

" My friend, do you travel far in the direction in 
which we are now gliding? " Then he squared for us 



ODD HOURS. 105 

again, and we braced well back against our end of the 
seat. Says he : 

YVho'd think so plain a thing, and wiry, 
Could hold such vast inquiry ? 
I yet go leagues, past field and fence, 
Thro' hamlet, town, and forest dense. 
Be patient, man, and I will prove it thee. 

We said thank you, and kept one eye on him. We 
knew now that he was real " mad," or else he was chock 
full of poetry — about the same thing. We rallied him 
once more : 

" My friend, didst come from afar, or from * anear ' ? " 
He replied, with one of his fingers raised, 

From beyond the Rockies' gilded peaks, 
Where the golden ray it's good-night seeks ; 
Where the canyon splits the earth in twain, 
Where the rivers are spread o'er fields for rain ; 
There is where my hearth is spread — 
There's my childhood's rocking bed. 

We said thank you, and kept one eye on him. Yet, 
we began to feel that he wasn't dangerous, and com- 
menced taking on much " poetic sympathy ; " still, be- 
ing an old frontiersman, we felt bound not to give him 
the " drop " on us. We said : 

We'd like to hear more, my earnest friend, 
Of this grand continent's other end. 

Whew ! Jemima's aunt ! We were getting the " pow- 
er " ourself ; we began to have a queer sensation run- 
ning all through our frame clear down into the grip- 
sack. In short, we were beginning to " strike it," and 
felt like doing the whole world up in poetic parlance, 
ourself— bound in " calf," price seven dollars, sold only 



io6 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

by subscription. When we gave him the " breeze," 
above, he fairly broke himself in two turning upon us, 
as he exclaimed : 

Thou weezen, wistful short-capped " Pan," 
Whence comest thou ? —speak, strange man ! 

We said thank you, and kept one eye on him. His 
manner was now an intensely excited one. We re- 
plied : 

Marvel not my good friend of kin, 

For, knowest thou, if any man kin, I kin ? 

'Tis not a " fool verse," or " taffy " thing 

I give thee — but lines with true poetic ring. 

I come from Alleghany's sun-lit crest, 

From the lucky horse-shoe's sloping breast ; 

I'm a poet, real, and to the manor born, 

I know no such word as "boor," or, " in a horn." 

Pray tell me more of that far off State, 

Whose portals ope' through a Golden Gate ; 

Where mountains hold the back-door key, 

And bathe their feet in the billowy sea. 

About this time he crawfished and sat on the back of 
the seat, and gazed down on us in amazement. His 
actions were those of a sensitive and poetic nature when 
enjoying a first-class scare. He didn't discover that he 
had imparted to us our sudden gift. With a tragic mein 
he replied : 

Such a kindred spirit, I'll be bound ! 
In such a castle ne'er was found ; 
A thing that gives me converse sweet, 
Like golden grain in chaff of wheat! 
Thou'st not the semblance of a bard — 
More like the cleaner of a yard. 
But now that thou hast ably proven 



ODD HOURS. *<fy 



That in thy soul a bard is woven, 
I will no longer Took askanse 
But on thee take a double chance. 

We looked at him and continued : 

Aye, thou poet with soft brown hair, 

Eye so sharp, and cheek so fair, 

Inside this shell of commonest clay, 

Lies a sentiment, refined as day. 

My name and fame thou fain wouldst know — 

Though in this coat is wrapt your foe. 

" Diamond cut Diamond " is my name, 

And jealous are both, of each other's fame. 

About this time the fellow began looking for a place 
to jump, and it Was surely true that he was greatly 
puzzled as well as actually frightened — no doubt think- 
ing that we were a madman, or else a rival poet on his 
track and bent upon his ruin. He fairly screeched this 
response: . 

Hold ! Thou scraggly chim-pan-zee, 
I would I could make friends with thee ! 
I give thee here my solemn word, 
No curse from me was ever heard, 
'Gainst other poet far or near — 
Much less the one who meets me here. 
I'm a simple bard, from the western slope — 
Where I struck an easy, poetic \ lope ' — 
And thought I'd to. the. eastward fly 
And mash all bards beneath the sky. 
Thou art the first of all I've met, 
Already, as a bard, my orbs are set ; 
I acknowledge, the first and only test, 
Admonishes me to again go west. 
If thou wilt spare me further pain, 
I'll again turn back whilst yet I'm sane; 



ib* UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

And nevermore leave my Rocky den ; 
To mash the world's poetic men. 

We found that we had given him a zephyr that had 
jarred him worse than ever one of his Rocky Mountain 
winds had done, and yet he never dreamed that we, in 
tapping him so persistently, had gamed all we knew 
about it. We now neared the station where our journey 
ended, and having found out from another fellow pas- 
senger that it was Joaquin Miller with whom we were 
striving, we determined to give him one more twist ere 
we left the car, and while the spell was on. Says we : 

Tis well, thou long-haired, sleekly cuss, 

Remember long 'tis ■ we ' — 'tis ' us ; ' 

'Tis ' we ' who stands on picket line 

To vanquish such poetic swine. 

'Tis ' us ' thou'st come to tease and quiz, 

But, seest thou' we know our ' biz ? ' 

Face once again the setting sun, 

And as you go, count on your thumb, 

The eastern poets thou hast slain — 

A ' sum ' you see that's all too plain. 

If a common poet from « Horse-shoe's ' breast 

Can mash a nit from ' Rocky's ' crest, 

Then, how would Whit, be, for a filler, 

To a one-horse bard like Joaquin Miller ? 

As we backed out of the door at our station, he was 
hanging over the back of the car-seat, limp as a super- 
annuated dish-rag, and if we ever hear again from Joa- 
quin it will doubtless be as a joker, not as a bard. 

Before we reached our hearthstone, we had our jaw 
all straightened around again, the spell was off, and we 
can't talk now only in the common way. But we are 
likely to 'go off' again, whenever we strike real poetic 



ODD HOURS. 109 

genius. Joaquin Miller has it, and has it bad, too, as 
the above will testify ; and anything herein that may 
seem as though we were actually bent upon belittling 
Joaquin, our readers must take only as a joke on him, 
and not meant in earnest. 




DOGS, AND THINGS. 



DOG isn't the most reliable creature in all the 
I wide world, excepting as a dog. You may cut 
his tail off, pull off his < bark/ harness him up 
and //ay horse with him, but the only way you can pos- 
sibly make anything else out of a dog, is to work him 
up into sausage; and even then, the dog will stick out. 
A dog has a legitimate place in the world, though, and 
can find a good deal to do that no other animal can do 
— but we are now sneaking particularly of the average 
dog ; the class that have so many breeds, and so many 
kinds of blood into them, that any kind of a bet can be 
made as to breed, and both parties to the bet may win 
every time no matter if they bet in clubs of a dozen or 
fifty. He becomes, at this stage in his evolution, a 
1 quicker dog '—he would quicker lie around and snap 
flies than to attend to any kind of business. These are, 
with a few honorable exceptions, the kind of dogs the 
boys of this town 'work to sled.' They can, after a 
good deal of patient training, do a tolerably fair stroke 
at * horse,' because they have no particular ambition and 



i io UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

will consent to be mauled into almost anything; al- 
though it. takes a boy with a rugged constitution to maul 
one of them into any remarkable aptitude as the puller 
of a sled. There is only one thing that will stir up one 
of these dogs worse than half a bushel of fleas, and that 
is the sight of a cat ; a cat is about the only thing left 
that they fully realize, so to speak, or have any passion- 
ate taste for. Of course, after enough pounding, even 
the sight of a cat doesn't disturb them much, but that 
idea cannot be fully mauled out oi them until about the 
last season of their usefulness; so, that the only way a 
boy could always have a safe and reliable dog-horse, 
would be to keep a few pounded ahead. One of them 
was leisurely trotting down one of our avenues the oth- 
er day, and the driver, with lines in hand, was enjoying 
the fine scenery at the head of the lake, breathing in the 
health-giving morning air, and occasionally staining the 
snow with a liberal expectoration from the .last plug of 
tobacco his father had left exposed. When about half 
way down the hill, however, something took occasion 
to occur. The occurrence that occurred proved con- 
clusively that this particular dog, so far from having the 
' cat ' all mauled out ot him yet, was just ripe for cats. 
One of them came jumping along out of a side alley, 
and though a cat usually uses great precaution, and sel- 
dom leaps before she looks, this one bounded into the 
avenue just a few feet ahead of the dog. About this 
time the boy's regular sleighride commenced. He 
didn't have time to tell the dog that he needn't be in a 
hurry, nor to say anything, in particular. The cat had 
occasion to go down across the railroad into ' fisher- 



ODD HOURS. in 

man's alley,' and it seemed to strike the dog that he al- 
so had a little business down that way — so, they both 
commenced to go immediately, and the boy also started 
down in that general direction — like- wise the sled. The 
whole establishment seemed to have been behind 
time and was bound to reach the next station on time, 
or tear up the track. The boy took a death-grip on the 
sled, attending to nothing, whatever, except his regular 
holding on, and exhausting tobacco juice. The cat at- 
tended strictly to business, and the dog pursued his way, 
reaching for the cat's tail every time they both hap- 
pened to touch the ground at the same time. The light 
snow disturbed along the route by such velocity, finally 
assumed an appearance of a horizontal pillar of fog, for 
half a mile, and hollow; finally, the only way we could 
see how they were making it, was to run and look in at 
the end. At last, they turned a corner down on the 
Point, all well together, the boy's legs flying around like 
the arms of a wind-mill. We are sorry to say that al- 
though we went down to that part of the city as soon 
as possible, and spent several hours in investigation and 
inquiry, we failed to ascertain definitely where or how it 
all ended. The people, until we explained, thought it 
was a heavenly stone, or meteor, that had gone through 
them in that quarter, and were very much agitated. All 
that could be found was some cat-fur, a dog-collar, a 
demolished outhouse, a sled-runner and some pieces of 
a boy's coat. It is probable that the whole train went 
into one of the fish-holes out on the lake, and we should 
advise every family in town to take a fresh invoice of 
their children to see who it is that has lost a boy about 



ii2 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

twelve years old, wearing a peaked cap, a blue wamus, 
and a brindle dog. 




A " CLOSE call: 1 

PON entering our ivy-clad and fern-embanked 
cot the other evening, our large flock of little 
.folks proceeded to inform us that a man had 
been there during the hours in which we had 
been absent, toiling like a slave for means with which to 
fill the mouths of our little home-birds. The toil con 
sists chiefly in prying out one-horse ideas with a five-cent 
lead-pencil, as our crow-bar, in a cool and elegantly 
furnished office, a few hours each day ; three-fourths of 
those hours, even, are spent in sticking our number 
elevens up on the table, leaning back in an easy chair 
and thinking deeply about nothing. The man who had 
been there was the tax-gatherer — the/#//-tax fiend. He 
left a notice which read : " Sir — You are hereby noti- 
fied to appear on Saturday next at 7 o'clock a. m., at 
Lake Avenue and Superior Street, provided with pick 
and shovel, to work on the highways of the village," 
etc., signed by the street commissioner. Now such a 
notice was rather startling to a man who thought he 
had nothing to tax. But it seems as though a man was 
born to be taxed. This poll-tax is hard to understand ; 
it seems to strike a fellow about so often, whether he 
owns a palace or a dog — or nothing. It seems they 
charge a man for walking around on the ground — the 



ODD HOURS. 113 

earth which was made for the free use of man, likewise 
women and children. Or, for the air he breathes, which 
is so plentiful around here that no reasonable man 
would think of charging us for the little we used ; after 
a person breathes up all he can of it, there is a whole 
sky full of it left, that has never been touched — enough 
to supply Chicago for a week, without warming over — 
and such air ! 

But, the street commissioner evidently didn't know 
that it would have been dangerous, if not positively dis- 
astrous to the city, had we responded to his call — which 
we did not. There are men who can safely be let loose 
with a pick and shovel to work out their poll-tax ; they 
are moderate workers, who work as though determined 
to leave a whole lot of the ' poll ' for the next year — 
they are not inclined to be piggish, and turnpike the 
whole country, tor an imaginary dollar and a half. 
They labor moderately, so as not to deprive future gen- 
erations of the enjoyment of working on the roads for 
imaginary shekels. We are not that kind of a man, 
however, when yoked in with a pick and shovel. We 
don't mean to be mean, but when once we grapple the 
business-end of a pick or shovel, it is just awful to see 
the dirt fly. Of course we didn't respond to the com- 
missioner's call, because we knew he didn't know who 
he was fooling with. Having no grudge against the 
town, we forebore working out our tax. It could not 
but prove calamitous to let us loose on Lake Avenue. 
When once started, we could not be shut off until the 
whole hill for several blocks, up and down, would be 
shoveled into the bay ; the houses would be wrecked 



ii 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

and many of the people probably killed, or maimed for 
life, the rocks rolled over into Wisconsin, and the cop- 
per veins that underlie the city would be pulled up by 
the roots and shoveled into Lake Michigan. There 
would be an awful trouble all around this region, and 
though we would make beautiful roads and a level coun- 
try out of it, the town would be entirely destroyed. 
There's no use in the street commissioner urging us, be- 
cause we cannot consent to work out our tax ; we are 
better acquainted with the notified party than he is. If 
he would see us pull up a cistern or a well and throw 
the hole over into another county, he would at once see 
that it was not proper for him to talk pick and shovel 
business with us. If his honor is a fit man for street 
commissioner he will take due notice of this warning, 
come around and get his dollar and a half, and hire 
some man who is in the habit of working moderately 
when working out a poll-tax. 



A district attorney out in Dakota has sold his 
saloon to Young-man-not-afraid-of-his-aquifortis. 



A milk-wagon ran away in St. Paul the other day, 
and the pump-water flew so that the driver was nearly 
drowned. 



f&M 



ODD HOURS. 115 





YOUR RIGHT-HAND POCKET. 



you ever just notice your right hand vest- 
jpocket ? That is, did you ever take everything 
'out of it, all at one time, and spread the contents 
out on the table and look 'em over ? If you never did, 
just try it, and see if you aren't a boy, the same as when 
a ten-year-old. The only difference is, you have 
changed pockets. Then you used to go about with your 
left-hand breeches-pocket hanging down like a pair of 
saddle-bags with both ends on the near side. It was 
more than full ; leather strings and tow-ropes dangled 
from the extended mouth, while the ends of nails stuck 
out into daylight from the bottom of the great poke, and 
your left knee was blistered from the chafing of the 
heavy receptacle. A boy with that kind of a pocket 
was considered, among the boys, as being tolerably 
forehanded in the matter of valuable personal property. 
He could show a miscellaneous stock that would put in 
the shade any ordinary variety store of to-day — every- 
thing from a rusty gimlet or wooden clock- wheel down 
to the running gear of a flutter- wheel or a dozen spotted 
beans. The immense weight of the menagerie stretched 
his single yarn suspender until it was about two feet 



u6 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

longer, and correspondingly narrower, than when his 
mother knit it for him, or before he lost his other one. 
It made him stoop-shouldered, and hauled him over so 
far to leeward that he walked with his right arm thrown 
out, to balance the center of gravity- — his gait being still 
further " oddified " by walking only on the toes of his 
left foot, in order not to crowd the great blue stone- 
bruise that overpowered his left heel. That was about 
the shape of it when we were boys, and we often laugh 
when we think of it. We did think of it the other day 
when we cleaned out our right-hand vest-pocket, and 
beheld the accumulation, since the old vest was new. 
Among other things, we found half a dozen scraps of 
paper with memoranda on each, three big screws, four 
matches two tooth-picks, two stubs of pencils, a pencil- 
holder, button-hook, three shirt and one pant button, a 
four-penny nail, a tin tack, a nickle, a printer's rule, a 
row of pins, a small piece of tobacco and a little dirt. 
About the only vital difference between now and thirty 
years ago was, that we found no " slings," no assortment 
of strings, no second-hand horse-shoe nails, none of the * 
machinery of a wooden cart, mud marbles, or broken 
hen's eggs, as we used to in those days. But, we found 
enough to forcibly remind us of that happiest period of 
life when we didn't care whether school kept or not, — 
only a good deal rather it wouldn't — or whether Gener- 
al Scott killed the last Mexican greaser in existence — 
only a good deal rather he would — or whether the put- 
ty market in Antwerp fluctuated up or fluctuated down. 



ODD HOURS. j 17 





SLAVES TO FASHION. 



,HERE was one thing, during our boyhood, thai 
we boasted of; that was that a resolution had 
taken hold of our soul, heart, gizzard, and the 
rest of our body, to the effect that should ive live to the 
age of even a thousand years we should never become 
a " slave to fashion " — no, never, never 7 Often .have 
we sat on the fence of our father's farm, and made faces 
by the hour at the dandies and belles who passed on 
the road, holding them in the most utter contempt be- 
cause of their frivolous character. With our " pepper 
and salt " breeches, held in position by one yam sus- 
pender, our hickory shirt, and a first-class stubbed toe 
on each foot, we telt good and noble and Christian, and 
looked with profound derision upon those who wasted 
any more dry goods than we did in the protection of 
their anatomies. We stood manfully by this noble res- 
olution for several years — until we had an opportunity 
to do differently. But, as time rolled on, and we be- 
came "our own man," at the age of fourteen the temp- 
tation to " pile on the agony " in the way of dress be- 
came very, very strong; it wasn't long, in fact, until we 
commenced getting everything possible with our limited 



ri8 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

means with which to fresco and adorn our anatomy, 
until we soon found ourself as big a fool as anybody 
else — as frail, in fact, as a stalk of the tenderest aspara- 
gus. From one thing to another we have passed, until 
now we actually wear a great standing collar, just be- 
cause other folks do. As a luxury, we consider these 
" latest collars " equal to any fashionable misery that 
has come out for a long time. Of course, a man's head 
is made to feel like a pumpkin in a cheese-box, but nev- 
er mind — they are the style, and that ends it. Their 
shape is admirable for scoring one's cheek or cutting his 
ear loose ; a man in turning a corner has to commence 
stern-wheeling himself around half a block away so as 
to make his body conform with the corner simultane- 
ously — make it straight with himself — or he will be cer- 
tain to cut his throat. It is awful to see a short person 
with a short neck wearing one of these double-bitted 
throat-cutters ; he looks like a toad on parade — that's 
the way we look, and we feel like a boxed codfish. We 
dare say, however, that our appearance is perfectly 
stunning to the average beholder, and with our collar, 
we become admissable to " the best circles." If a man 
has a good deal of cheek, he will last longer and win 
more favors than one with a scarcity of jowl ; ours is 
not particularly "big," but it's awful tough, hence we 
expect to hold out with many a " fatter fool," and we 
defy fashion to produce any damnable thing that we 
won't wear, and wear with the same ravishing grace 
that we do this blessed collar — that takes our life every 
time we turn our head around to " see a man." Fash- 
ion ! — a slave to fashion ! — what is life without fashion ? 



ODD HOURS. 119 

That's what life is for — to " pile it on *' and learn how 
to get the most fashion out of the most misery. Philos- 
ophers, wise men, eminent Christians, and so forth, tell 
us that this life is intended as a preparation-room for a 
better life ; that is all nonsense ! Keep up with the 
fashion, young man ; if it takes all the money you can 
earn, and all you can borrow, go for it. What every- 
body does, must be right — and they all do it. Just at 
present, the chief end of man is a high collar, and a 
heap of cheek, backed up by a fool, just like we are. 
Let eternity look out for itself; a fashionable collar is all 
a man, these days, can handle. 

A man should strive hardest to acquire those things 
which he can carry with him when he dies. It will be 
a light class of baggage, but very valuable. 



Another sea-serpent, about 300 feet long, has 
been seen off New York harbor, by the captain of a 
vessel. Some of these sea-captains must drink awfully 
strong * booze.' 



An exchange tells us that a Maine man has regu- 
larly received the Congressional Globe and Record for 
the last thirty-six years, and has read every copy. We 
have often met men who were ■ walking dictionaries/ 
but we never heard of a traveling waste-basket before. 



16 




UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





MEETING A CHAIR. 

EAR reader, did you ever arise from your couch 
jduring the stilly hours of night ? If so, did you 
ever find a chair in the very exact spot where 
you could have sworn that it wasn't ? We did. It was 
not a hundred years ago, either, when we had occasion 
to slide out from our downy couch, just as the " faithful 
clock " was about to toll the hour of midnight. The 
principle object of our night-tour was to reach the rear 
door of our humble cot. Our business there, was to 
gently toss a stick of stove-wood at a brace of " feline 
cats," that were indulging in the devilish work of keep- 
ing us awake to the great detriment of our needed rest. 
We had stood it just as long as we possibly could, and 
blood was all that could satiate our parching thirst for 
vengeance. We arose vigorously, nor bated in our vic- 
ious march for the front door of the back kitchen ; that 
is, we didn't halt until we stopped. An heir-loom, in 
the form of a heavy, hardwood chair, which had been 
handed down through our family from the days when 
Marc Anthony dandled Cleopatra on his knee, met us 
in the blackness that prevailed in the rear apartment, 
adjoining the wood-shed where the cats were located. 



ODD HOURS. ui 

We could have testified, on a stack of Jayne's almanacs 
as high as the Pyramids, that that old oaken chair was 
in the garret. That is, we could have testified in that 
way before we met it in the kitchen. Immediately after 
we had interviewed it, however, we could have sworn 
it was not in the garret — in fact, we did so swear; our 
testimony was emphatic on the question of locality. We 
met the chair directly on the end of our second-best toe 
on the south foot. The impetuosity of our vigorosity of 
motion, made it very bad for that toe. We saw stars — 
the "bear," "dipper," "Jacob's ladder," everything 
but cat. Our remarks, as we stood on our head just 
north of the wood-box, would have been highly credit- 
able to an important meeting of the bulls and bears of 
Chicago, when wheat was on the decline. We finally 
got our centre, and yelled for a light, which was instant- 
ly brought forth by the next-best member of the family, 
who felt sure that the house had " settled," or the cellar 
caved in. Upon examination, we found the toe in 
question, completely telescoped, with not enough of it 
sticking out of the " bumper " to make a coupling on. 
In fact, there was only a place for a toe ; it had been 
driven up worse than the tail of a butcher's dog. It re- 
sembled a turtle's neck, when the turtle wasn't " at 
home." After getting it pulled out by means of a pair 
of nippers, and splintered into place again, we went to 
bed, and were rather grateful the rest of the night, be- 
cause the cats kept us from getting lonesome, while we 
laid awake and nursed our toe. 



2 2 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 




ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. 




ULIA — You are in a pickle, sure enough. You 
say you gave your * adorable ' the ' mitten,' and 
now you are sorry you did so, and want us to 
tell you the best way to win him back without having 
to go through too much humiliation. Well, let us see. 
You had better write him a note, perfumed with sasa- 
fras, and things, and tell him you were only joking — 
that you are just as much his as possible, without the 
aid of a parson, — that your heart is in his vest-pocket, 
or in that vicinity, and he ought to know it. If this 
doesn't work, just write him again that you are anxiously 
awaiting his reply to your last, before yielding to the 
persuasions of another chap, who is absolutely turning 
yellow for the want of your smiles. This will bring him, 
if he isn't a fiend, and if he is a fiend, it will be dead 
sure to fetch him. 

" Finance " — You ask us " what is the difference be- 
tween a greenback dollar and a gold dollar at the pres- 
ent time." Well, as far as we know, there is just the 
same difference that there always was : A greenback 
dollar is a paper concern, about three by six inches in 
size, and has several nice pictures on the front side, in- 



ODD HOURS. 123 

eluding a portrait of some one of our lamented old pat- 
riots who// in some of our American wars,— the back- 
side being green, and ornamented with a lot of neat 
curlemacues. A gold dollar is a little yellow contriv- 
ance, about as big as a cat's eye, when the cat is work- 
ing a mouse-hole, and is made of gold — in most cases. 
On one side it has the goddess of Liberty's head, and 
on the other side it hasn't. We saw one of each kind 
last summer, and made a note of how they looked ; had 
we not been favored with the opportunity, your ques- 
tion would have been to hard for us. 

« Pap "—Your question is one that has puzzled the 
philosophers of all ages, and we give it up, of course. 
Like yourself, we could never understand why the hind- 
wheel of a wagon did not overtake the forward wheel, 
it being so much the larger. 

" John "—The nearest approach to perpetual motion 
that has ever been attained, is by the tongue of an agi- 
tated mother-in-law. It runs without greasing, and with 
the regularity of an eight-day clock, that is wound up 
every twenty-four hours. 

" Inquirer "—Yes ; it is always the very smartest men 
that can be found in the State, who are elected to the 
Legislature. Their pictures show that, or if they don't, 
the laws that they pass give conclusive evidence of it. 

" Eliza "—We have forgotten some of our geography, 
including that part that treats of the earth's axis. If 
our memory serves us, however, the said axis sticks out 
a bit, at either pole, and rests in a forked stick. How 
nearly it is worn off, we are not informed; and what 



124 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

will take place when it does wear off, is not exactly cer- 
tain. The probability is, however, that somebody will 
get left. 

" James " — No ; it is in very bad taste to whistle in 
company. To break yourself of it, wear a very tight 
collar, and stay at home. 

" Mary Ann " — You say your old house cat has sort 
of crazy spells — you fear she is threatened with hydro- 
phobia, etc., — and want us to tell you what to do for 
her. Certainly ! Although it has been some time since 
we left the cat " practice," yet we remember that these 
symptoms indicate a very common complaint among 
house-cats. But, we should have had a lock of your 
cats hair, in order to tell the exact phase of the disease. 
You need not fear hydrophobia in the case ; she may 
be somewhat angry, but not necessarily ' mad.' Her 
complaint is what is technically termed by the profes- 
sion, ' worm in the tail.' You should diet the old pet ; 
give her less oats and more chop-feed, with a spoonful 
of saltpeter mixed into the chopped straw and bran ; 
bathe her in turpentine, and rub her down with a stick 
of stovewood. After a reasonable time, if she does not 
improve, lash a stone to her neck, and make her drink 
a barrel of water, without stopping to take breath. This 
latter remedy is a sure cure for ' worm in the tail,' or 
for almost any other disease in cats — as many scores of 
cats, that we have had the treatment of, could testify, if 
they were alive and could speak. 

" Farmer " — The only way we know to cure your 
" valuable breeding sow of breaking through the fence 



ODD HOURS. i2 S 

into the corn," is as follows : Go to the woods and 
nnd a large tree that is crooked and hollow. Cut it 
down, cut it off each side of the crook or bow ; take it 
and build it in underneath the fence, at the point where 
the feminine swine generally breaks through, leaving the 
bow of the log inside the field, but both ends projecting 
outside. Then, hide yourself near by, and enjoy the 
circus. The gentle creature — all old sows are prover- 
bial for their gentleness — will come along after awhile, 
discover the extraordinary facilities offered for entering 
the field, and after looking the thing over for a minute 
or two, she will proceed to go into the field through 
the hollow log, with several grunts, evincing rare satis- 
faction. After a little, however, she will " issue " from 
the other end of the log but, of course, on the same side 
of the fence. She will elevate her nose, wriggle the lit- 
tle pancake on the end of her snout, and smell around 
for the crop, vigorously, for as much as half a minute. 
Then, she will throw a hog-eye around to the rear, to 
see where she came from, and turn about and smell the 
end of the log; she will eye the crop through the fence, 
and wonder how it got over the fence so soon. After 
taking the bearing of the hollow in the log, and seeing 
that it certainly leads directly through to the corn-side 
of the fence she makes a lively entrance, and waltzes 
around through the log on a trot so as to get there be- 
fore the corn can hop over the fence again. She comes 
out at the other end of the log with a tread and a grunt 
that says, " Now, I reckon I'll have some corn, alle 
samee!" Then she sticks her nose up into the air 
again, and wabbles the little " graham gem " on the end 



126 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

of her nozzle, around in more directions than charac- 
terize a " dying " top, and tries to imagine that she sees 
" dead-loads" of corn, and things — but she doesn't, and 
will soon " give it up," and start into the log- hole 
again, with the same result. After you have enjoyed 
the menagerie as long as your sides can stand it, you 
can go away to your work contentedly, and stay a week, 
if you want to. She will never leave the spot, but will 
travel back and forth through that log all summer, in 
her effort to be a little more " previous " in getting 
through the fence than the corn is in jumping over it. 
This is an old cure for breachy sows, but it is the best 
we ever tried when we were in the business. 



The "civilized" Indians around here do show 
wonderful signs of forsaking their barbaric state and 
embracing a sort of Christian style of doing things. 
But, when one of these new-made Christians goes into 
a grocery store, with his wife, and buys a sack of flour, 
he suddenly remembers that he is a noble red-man, and 
at once determines that he will " toil not, neither will he 
spin." Hencely, he invites his squaw to shoulder the 
bag while he starts up street, a few steps ahead of the 
flour, walking as stiff and straight ( as a Roman gladiator 
— or a lazy Indian. 






ODD HOURS. 127 





THEY'RE ALL ALLKE. 



jOME one asks : " Wonder if it seems just the 
same to a king and queen when they get mar- 
ried, as it does to other folks." 
To be sure it does. In all probability Alfonso of 
Spain and his bride had about the same sensations play- 
ing around under their vest and corset, respectively, as 
common people do when they " git spliced." We sup- 
pose they got together after the subsequent tom-foolery 
was ended, and talked things over as to their domestic 
affairs just as everybody does — how many rooms they 
could put up with, whether she couldn't " do without a 
girl " for a while, anyway, and just hire her washing 
and ironing done, etc. They talked " economy " to 
death. He proposed that he was willing, when he went 
down to work, on his throne, to take a cold lunch in a 
tin bucket and just step out to a beer-foundry and get a 
glass of beer for five cents to wash it down. He would 
wear his best clothes only when he expected callers, and 
in the meantime she could darn up his pepper-an'-salt 
coat, patch the " heel " of his pants, and draw the 
grease-spots out of his every-day hat with ammonia and 
a hot flatiron. Oh, yes ; kings and queens are just as 

'7 



128 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

fond of all this kind of talk, after marriage, as anybody- 
else. What would this life amount to, anyway, it young 
married folks couldn't talk over their plans ? It would 
be a desert waste. If we were to be offered a kingdom, 
with this green spot in life left out, we'd tell them to 
take their old kingdom and go to — and do what they'd 
a mind to with it. We wouldn't take a half a dozen 
kingdoms on such terms, and we dare say Alfonso and 
and his young wife wouldn't either. We can almost 
hear the young queen telling Al. that he must put 
her up a lye-leach before spring, and she will save up 
her grease and make a whole barrel of soft soap ; and 
that he must get a pig to eat up the tater-peelings, and 
things, and a cow and some chickens — regular layers — 
and she'll work up the rags during the winter and have 
enough for a carpet by spring. Oh, yes. And then 
she counts her fingers to see how many balls it will take 
to make twenty-five yards of rag-carpet, while Alfonso 
gets down to his ciphering to see how much it will cost 
to get it woven at ten cents a yard. And Al. he de- 
lights her by enumerating how many nice little things 
he can make for the house during odd evenings when 
there's nothing to do down at the throne — such as 
brackets, flower-stands, a bread-board, potato-masher, 
a cradle, and ever so many things that will save, you 
know. Yes, indeed. She will fix over her old rep 
dress, put on a polonaise trimmed with a shade darker, 
and that will do all winter for afternoons, and she can 
" turn " her fall hat, and get her old shoes mended. 
Economy ? That's the way it always begins, and there 
is no other time in a woman's life that can compare 



ODD HOURS. 129 

with right after marriage, in the amount of solid happi- 
ness to the square foot, unless it is when she is dressing 
her first doll ; and, as for a man, he cannot deny but 
what it fully equals in pleasure the days when he used 
to go to mill on the old horse, with corn in one end 
of the bag, and stones in the other. 




THE WOOD-BUCKER. 



E that bucketh wood, on a buck, with a buck- 
saw, bucketh from out his saw-buck an honest 
living. There is a greater quantity of buckness 
to a buck in a buck-saw and to a saw-buck, when faith- 
fully bucked, than is found in any other way of bucking 
for one's daily bread. Bucking a buck-saw, on a saw- 
buck, bucketh much perspiration from the brow of the 
buckee ; and, the buckor, for whom the buckee buck- 
eth, pays very stingily for the bucking of him who 
bucketh it. Whenever we see an aged huckster buck- 
ing away with his buck-saw and his saw-buck, we al- 
ways get the " buck-fever ; " and feel as though we 
ought to contribute to his task of bucking, whatever 
of the bucking ability we might add to his buck. Being 
very conservative, however, as a bucker on a buck-saw, 
we seldom, or hardly ever, mention our inclination to 
buck. Hence, when we sit in our warm office, and 
gaze out with tear-dimmed eyes, upon him who bucheth 
his buck, we feel that our tears availeth much, and that 
the only real difference, after all, is, that for bread, he 



i 3 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

bucketh his buck- saw, on his buck, whilst we buck a 
lead-pencil, bucking out editorials and things. Never- 
theless, we mourn for the aged bucker. 



THE " YALLER" HORSE. 




E SAW a team and a dog on the street the 
.other day. This of itself, however, is no very 
extraordinary spectacle, because there are lots 
of horse-teams, and also several dogs to be viewed in 
and about this town nearly every day. The team in 
this instance had been unhitched and was feeding along 
side of the wagon. They were country horses, and 
were dressed in harness that seemed a sort of comprom- 
ise between a lot of old ropes, odd pieces of straps, tow- 
strings, and nothing at all. The harnesses were an av- 
erage set, in the rural districts common to the ragged 
edge of civilization, and matched the wagon perfectly. 
The vehicle had seen service regularly, on mighty rough 
roads, since about the time that Fulton's steamboat first 
wrestled with the Hudson River. It was extremely 
aged, and every wheel on it was bow-legged with the 
weight of years, while the pole was worm-eaten and 
" humped down " through a weakness of the backbone 
— an evident case of " spinal-maginnis " which had be- 
come chronic. But, we are forgetting the team, and 
also neglecting the dog. As we remarked, the two 
horses were eating their noon-luncheon ; it was a frugal 
repast and consisted of an armful of wire-grass, sprinkled 



ODD HOURS. 131 

with weak brine, so they could worry it down, and im- 
agine that it was the timothy of their childhood. Their 
general appearance told, in thunder thoughts, that wire- 
grass had constituted their "stuffing" for the last score 
of years. One had been a black horse when he first 
began his career, but time had faded him out until he 
was of that rare shade known as no color in particular. 
Three of their ears had been frozen down to the first 
limb, and the remaining one hung limp. The other 
horse was a pale yellow in color, and had bright eyes 
that indicated great force of character and energy — a 
horse that made the most of everything, and was bound 
to be cheerful no matter what the surroundings. He 
was thin almost to atenuation, and resembled a pipe 
stem on a couple of clothes-pins, with a stomach in sus- 
pension. The long hair looked as though it grew clear 
through ; his lip hung down carelessly, while his tail 
seemed to have been eaten off by the calves. As he 
leisurely chawed away at his repast, a city dog happened 
along, and observed the " establishment." He evident- 
ly was larking around in search of some sport, and he 
rightly judged that he had struck a rich lead in the yel- 
low horse, and he began to caper about him and bark 
in the most gleeful manner. The yellow horse didn't 
seem to scare to any noticeable extent, and only seemed 
to enjoy the racket as he kept on munching his wire- 
grass. The sleek city dog warmed up in his enjoyment 
of the sport, and after a quarter of an hour's rollicking 
about the front of the horse, he went to the rear and 
began jumping up and toying with the remains of what 
had once been a horse's tail, and barking for very joy. 



.32 NCLE DUDLEY'S 

The old nag, however, kept one of his eyes rather on 
guard in that direction, as any close observer might have 
noticed, though showing no sign. At last, however, the 
scene suddenly changed, and a fat city dog might have 
been seen flying through the air, landing part way down 
on Lake Avenue bridge. There wasn't very much seen 
of the dog after that, though he was not out of hearing 
for ten minutes. The " yaller " horse from the country 
kept on eating his dinner. 



AN EGG. 



N EGG is a very eccentric animal. When it is 
Igood, it is allfired good ; when it is bad, it is in- 
fernally that way. There are no middling good 
eggs, nor are there any tolerably bad ones. An egg 
never occupies a middle-ground, nor is found " on the 
fence," like David Davis. It will, or it won't. When 
it is barely ripe, it won't do to put it away in the bureau 
drawer to get mellow, or to give the drawer and its con- 
tents a nice scent. It isn't that kind of an apple. 
Strange as it may seem, when an egg contains a chick- 
en, both the chicken and the egg are worth less in the 
market, than the egg, without the chicken. When eggs 
rise and fall in the market, the eggs are not broken ; 
but when they rise and fall anywere else, they become 
a total wreck. The way to eat an egg, is to drink it — 
right out of the shell. The bark of an egg isn't good 
for anything at all — not even for tanning purposes. As 




ODD HOURS. 133 

good a way as any to appreciate an egg, is to fill your 
Irowsers pockets full of them, and then climb a high rail 
fence on your way from the barn to the house, and after 
you have forgotten you had any eggs about your clothes. 
We have often appreciated eggs that way. Eggs are 
good, though, if absorbed before they get sort of " fun 
ny looking" inside. 



They are playing " One Hundred Wives," in a 

Chicago theater. We know of instances where men 

have had only one wife — and there was mighty little 
play about it, either. 

" I will raise you one," as we heard the sun re- 
mark to the thermometer, the other morning. 

To take a good hind-sight, is as important as to 
take a good foresight ; like those on a gun, the hind- 
sight should govern the foresight. 



Americans are physically frail, because they have 
too much brain, and too little balance-wheel — or too 
much balance in their wheel, or too much wheel in 
their balance. 



i$4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





TOUGH STORIES. 



Russians, says a certain writer, live in their 
cold country in great comfort. Among other 
items, he tells us that they can stand more heat 
as well as more cold, than "any other man." That 
even in the humblest cots, a large stove is the principal 
article of furniture, etc. His whole sketch, barring the 
concluding paragraph, bears the marks of a perfect 
plausibility. When he winds up by saying, however, 
that the humble Russian very frequently sleeps on top 
of his stove, we begin to limber up as a believer ; and 
when he further asserts that, " indeed, they very fre- 
quently sleep in the stove," we desire him to understand 
that there is a limit to even a Yankee's credulity. It is 
as hard on us as the story told us once, by a fellow, con- 
cerning a wild Indian he met away out on the plains. 
He went on to relate what a magnificent specimen of 
the " noble red man " he was — tall, always beautifully 
dressed, gorgeously and tastefully painted, the gaudiest 
feathers adorning his head, wonderfully intelligent, and 
so scrupulously clean and tidy in his person. We drank 
in all the details concerning this grandly beautiful wild 
man of the plains, with great relish, though he certainly 



ODD HOURS. i 35 

discounted anything we had ever seen in the line of 
Indian samples. The narrator, however, went just one 
step too far, and we suddenly became a mass of ruins, 
as a believer in the recital. " Why," he exclaimed, "this 
Indian was so neat that he would no more think of sit- 
ting down to a meal, without first carefully cleaning his 
finger-nails, than he would think of cutting his head 
off." That bu'sted the entertainment; and we have 
always believed since, that he never saw an Indian in 
all his life — not even a tobacco-sign — and knows as lit- 
tle about an Indian, or the " Indian problem/' as a 
Philadelphia Quaker. 



THE OLD SETTLER. 



VERY community is blessed with its "old 
(settler " — the old chap who can tell you how 
many deer and bear he has killed •" not twenty 
rods from where your house now stands." He delights 
to tell how many hard days' work he did with only three 
small potatoes and a roasted chipmonk to eat ; and who 
was the first baby born in the town, and how they sent 
for him to preside, because he happened to be the only 
man in the region who knew what was good for babies. 
He walks around among the modern settlers with all 
the airs possible for an original " developer " to have, 
and carries the conviction to every heart that he, the 
old settler, is ever so much more than an everlastingly 
" wise injun." He can kick a neighbor's dog clear across 
18 




136 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

the street, and it's all right ; because he is the " old set- 
tler," and emphatically the privileged character. When 
he comes into a town meeting, everybody, for a mo- 
ment, dries up, and grabs onto a more respectful run of 
sentences, and when they presume to advance an idea 
they involuntarily turn and address the old settler in the 
hope that he may nod an approving smile, or smile an 
approving nod ; if they get it, they laugh right out ; if 
his countenance clouds over, then the speaker very 
quickly sits down, leaving an impression that he " didn't 
say anything, nohow," and didn't try to. An " old set- 
tler " can tell one story over more times, successfully, 
than anybody else. He has but a small stock, gener- 
ally, because a story without himself as the hero, isn't 
any story at all ; and in order to be plausible, he dare 
not hero himself too often for fear it might get what 
this age terms " thin." Even the naked truth gets thin 
enough after you have listened to it four or five thousand 
times. There will be a terrible vacancy in our western 
communities when all the first settlers die ; there will be 
a happy lonesomeness prevailing for a long time, but 
after awhile it would seem sort of good to have them 
come back again — just to get off that story once more ; 
it would seem so old-fashioned, like. The " old settler " 
is happy, because he knows if it hadn't been for him the 
country would never have developed; hence, he can 
afford to be arrogant, uncivil, and imagine himself a real 
actuality, and everybody else mere accidentals. He 
nearly always says " no " to every progressive move- 
ment, because it shows he has a mind of his own, that 
he is the only man who " knows to the contrary," and 



ODD HOURS. 137 

besides he wants things kept just as near the " good old 
way " as possible. All in all, the " old settler " is an ec- 
centric old gimlet, and aside from keeping up a perfect- 
ly freezing dignity, and being perfectly harmless, is of 
about as much public use, as a bull is a private success 
in a china shop. 




RIDING ON AN ICEBOAT. 



YOU never rode on an iceboat, dear reader, 
an iceboat with a big sail, we sincerely lament 
your condition — you must be as miserable as a 
bee without flowers. As for us, we have stepped away 
from you j we have climbed aloft into a new sphere of 
contemplation, to which you, poor mortal, are a total 
stranger — we have had our ride on an iceboat over the 
broad bosom of the Lake. We can now look back with 
contempt upon the commonplace enjoyments of life, 
and wonder how we ever could have been amused with 
Fourth-of-July celebrations, circuses, picnics, sleighrides, 
railroad life, marbles or base-ball. We can scarcely 
conceive that we ever took delight in a minstrel per- 
formance, a political campaign, or in pulling the legs off 
of flies ; because, you see, we have " rid " on an ice- 
boat. We had an invitation to sail with a couple of 
friends, and of course accepted it, as it had long been 
our desire to take a trip on an iceboat. We descended 
to the shore of the beautiful lake — now solid in its icy 
grandeur — and found the boat just having her sheets 



138 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

spread to the zephyrs, which, in next the shore, barely- 
wafted our Byronical locks from behind our ears around 
and across the bridge of our Grecian nose. An iceboat 
is a wonderful craft, in its way, and in general appear- 
ance resembles an old-fashioned harrow ; it doesn't look 
like a harrow either ; but like a " lizzard " upon which 
logs are hauled out of the woods ; and yet, that isn't 
what it resembles, either — it bears a resemblance to an 
iceboat more than to either of the other articles. This 
one was clipper-built, with mutton-chop sail, and iron- 
clad stem and stern. We being the invited guest were 
given the position of honor, at the nose, or on the cor- 
ner that went first. The establishment moved in obe- 
dience to the pulsation of the breeze, and we glided 
gently out toward the central portion of the lake's bos- 
om. Though the brave old " salt " who sat at the helm 
said, in response to our question, that the boat was go- 
ing very slowly, we felt a little nervous, like, and the 
ice-scales were flying up into our faces; as the wind 
freshened, the craft flew ahead with such a velocity that 
we lay down, head to the wind, and only kept one eye 
open at a time. The ice chunks began to fly down in- 
side our coat-collar, and never stopped till they landed 
inside our socks, and the packing of our body in chopped 
ice went steadily forward until we were chin-deep in it, 
and we felt like an ice-cream freezer on a bu'st. We 
made out to twist our left optic around until we sighted 
the engineer at the helm, when in an agony of fright 
we shouted that we thought she had sprung a leak in 
the bow ; but the old fiend of the deep only smiled as 
he closed one eye and said, " Keep cool, yer lubber, we 



ODD HOURS. t& 

haven't commenced to go yet/' " Let us go ashore* 
then ! " we shrieked. But he only changed eyes, 
shifted his quid, and took his bearings for a point at the 
other- end of the lake. We now hugged down like a 
toad to a warm brick, drew our head deep down inside 
our coat-collar, and muttered, " Mercy on us ! " The 
ship leaped before the gale> scurried right and left, 
rocked over and flew along like a comet, first on one 
corner, then on another, and anon settling flat down 
and making the ice fairly bellow with the friction below ■, 
while the air above was full of congealed scales that cut 
like wire. The Point was reached and left behind, and 
the winged devil to which we had, in an unlucky mo 
ment, tied our fortunes, doubled the head of the Lake$ 
and started on the southern track as if swept ahead rJV 
all the Furies, We felt sure that such a velocity could 
not be overcome this side of the Gulf of Mexico, or pos- 
sibly we were entering upon the initiatory movement to 
form the nucleus of a gigantic meteor that would at no 
distant day appal the astronomer, by our fiery passage 
through space— a fiery body done in ice. As we lay 
there hanging on like grim death to the cross beam, 
speechless, motionless, almost senseless, in our enjoy- 
ment of a ride on an iceboat we reflected upon our only 
remaining desire in life ; to live, that we might slay our 
friends who had inveigled us into this indescribable 
peril, and unutterable enjoyment, to be found on earth 
only when taking a pleasure excursion in the forward 
hatch of an iceboat. We live, thanks to a tough con- 
stitution, and the balance of the programme would be 
faithfully executed, only that the friends who treated us 



Ho UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

to that ride have left the country. We are barely able 
to sit up, and keep poultices on the innumerable places 
where the skin is torn off, and rub Russian salve on the 
frozen spots. 



HUNTING PRAIRIE CHICKENS. 




NY one who desires to go in search of prairie- 
Ichickens, and have more than a bushel of fun — 

the same as we did a few days ago— should go 
prepared just as we did — that is, if he wants real pleas- 
ant excitement and recreative hilarity. Get your gun 
ami equipments, and two dogs, that know less about 
hunting chickens than the Old Harry knows about a 
hymn-book, and then start out with your eye sharply 
cocked tor a " flush." You go north two miles, south 
one, west three, and east a reasonable distance, by which 
time you will most likely strike a covey of chickens; 
you may know it was the first covey, because the dogs 
have, up to this time, scoured the entire country, clear 
to the horizon, in every direction, and are just coming 
to you about noon for their meat, that you are packing 
for them, when they scare up chickens all around you. 
Now is your time, or never, and you blaze away — both 
loads at one bird, and down he comes ; the dogs are 
just charging in all directions, and when the chicken 
falls, they make a grand rush for it and frighten the 
whole living covey half a mile away. As they start for 
it you begin yelling for them to " Git eout ! " at the very 



ODD HOURS. i 4 , 

howling pitch of your voice; but, it's no use, they have 
it— one by the head, the other by the tail. Just as you 
have rammed your two loads down — all the shot in one 
barrel and all the powder in the other — you start on a 
dead run to get the chicken away from the dogs, yelling 
bloody murder at every jump — to say nothing about the 
" irregular " sentences that are meant to give relief to 
your inmost feelings, and emphasis to the admonitions 
being addressed to the dogs. On the way to the scene 
of the struggle, that is almost hidden by a cloud of feath- 
ers, you step into a badger- hole anc\ turn several somer- 
saults, and fetch up with your head and both barrels of 
the gun rammed deep into a neighboring ant-hill ; all 
intent, however, upon getting that chicken from the 
dogs, you start again on the run, scraping the ants and 
dirt out of your eyes on the way, and of course, keep 
on saying something to the dogs. You arrive at the 
scene, and amid and over the carnage, begin to pour 
out the vials of your wrath in relation to the two dogs, 
and kick first one and then the other till their ribs crack, 
but it is of no avail ; they pull and howl for the victory, 
one over the other, and when they get the chicken torn 
into a thousand pieces they go for each other. Being 
borrowed, and highly valued as bird-dogs by their pro- 
prietor, they must be parted ere they kill each other. 
Taking hold of one by the heels, and placing your left 
foot on the tail of the other, you finally get them pulled 
apart, and they go in opposite directions to lie down 
and rest, whilst you sit down to recuperate and finish 
the stanzas you have only commenced, and repeat, over 
and over, others of the more emphatic kind relative to 



142 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

the proceedings and the result of the whole effort. You 
finally gather up five toes, a hand-full of feathers and 
the head of the very deceased chicken, and deposit 
them in your vest pocket as relics of a first-class hunt 
with bird-dogs that know how to "work." You hunt 
up your gun, find both barrels full of mud, turn about 
and say something more about bird-dogs, and start for 
home. Although this class of hunting is not calculated 
to bring in any great amount of meat for the family, 
yet, as a matter of " fun " and good, wholesome recrea- 
tion, we recommend it highly. 



MARRYING FOR MONEY. 



,HERE is nothing so dangerous to the happi- 
ness of married life as for either party to marry 
the other for money. We tried it, and know. 
When a young man, and at the age when we thought 
all honest people ought to be married, our capital was 
small. All we possessed in the wide world was two 
dollars and fifty cents and a handkerchief full of clothes. 
To cast about for a wife who had some filthy lucre with 
which to commence life, seemed to us our first and 
plainest duty — to ourself. Our search was speedily and 
richly rewarded; we found a young heiress who 
" couldn't tell a lie " by saying " no," and so the matter 
was focused at once, and we set sail together most aus- 
piciously. She possessed three dollars, and a new 
spring hat — raising our wealth to the extent of fifty 




ODD HOURS. 143 

cents. Life, since that time has been fully as blissful 
as might have been expected, we presume, and but for 
that unfortunate difference in moneyed wealth at the 
outset, no grim demon of disturbance would ever have 
been discernible about the ranch of which we claim to 
be the principal head. But this idea of supenor wealth 
can never be fully eradicated from the system, even in 
the face of good intentions. Hence, we say : young 
man, never marry for money ! 



UR recent article on how to commence farming 
on a new place, seems to have proven very val- 
uable to several thousand of our readers, and 
we have received a number of requests asking 
,us to give our own experience on a new farm, hoping 
thereby to elicit something further that may prove ben- 
eficial to them — which is to say, gain something from 
our experience. Of course, we gladly serve our friends 
in any manner possible, and as we had about six 
months' experience on a " homestead," once upon a 
time, we feel perfectly sure our experience must prove 
beneficial to all contemplating that course of life for the 
future. 

Our outfit consisted of a yoke of six-year-old black 
oxen — but we advise white ones, as they will not " draw 
the heat" like black ones — a cart, a cow and calf, four 
hens and a rooster— the brama sort — two pigs, one 12- 
inch breaking plow, a set of harrow-teeth, and three 
dogs. Of course we had provided for the family by 

19 




144 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

laying in a bag of flour, a hunk of bacon, two quarts of 
castor oil — in case of sickness in the family — a Dutch 
oven, some morning-glory and sun-flower seeds and a 
pair of flat-irons. As we sat on the dash-board of our 
cart and turned our back on the last town, with our face 
set straight for the frontier, we lighted our pipe, and a 
thrill of confidence, independence and joy coursed up 
our spinal column, as we turned and remarked to the 
second best member of the tamily, that, as a successful 
farmer, we felt sure we would prove a " terror." The 
dogs sportively ran hither and thither, in search of any- 
thing from a fly up to a mdsquito, and seemed to say, 
" Go it, old man, and we'll keep off the animals ! " 

We were very happy. After some years spent in a 
" work-shop," the freedom of the plains, the absence of 
crowds of humanity, the bracing air and the wildness of 
the scenery, raised our soul — our very being — mountains 
high in the scale of jubilant joy, the like of which we 
never had before experienced. Talk to us about your 
brown stone fronts, your gilded halls and your palatial 
homes ! We would not have traded our " homestead " 
on the wild frontier of Minnesota for forty thousand 
brown-stones, nor our oxen for a gilded hall big as the 
prairie over which we traveled. We sang out, as we 
snapped our whip over the backs of our team, " Oh, 
for a home in the wildwood," and the chorus was en- 
tered into by the whole family. 

At last, after a two days' ride, we arrived at our home- 
stead, where previously a house had been provided, in 
the shape of a log cabin with a bark roof. After getting 
settled, and putting a bell on the cow, we completed 



ODD HOURS, 



45 



arrangements for a first crop by putting in two acres of 
breaking to barley and the other five to turnips — re- 
serving half an acre for a garden. Things went on 
swimmingly for a time and we voted the enterprise an 
entire success, and our ability to manage and carry on 
the farming business, A, No. i. So it would have been, 
if " nothing had happened." The first reverse occurred 
with the calf: In an anxiety to take in a little suste- 
nance during the night, it had rammed its head through 
a crack in the fence, and in the morning there it hung, 
as inanimate a young bovine as could have been found 
in any country. The potatoes came up finely, but were 
taken entire charge of by the bugs ; the corn made one 
or two partial breakfasts for the blackbirds in that vicin- 
ity, and the cow ate so many wild leeks, or something, 
that she was sick most of the time ; the flies wore the 
oxen out so badly, that we had to sit up with them 
nights, and finally they " passed in their chips." The 
badgers and things had, in the meantime, gotten away 
with the poultry department, and the dogs were rapidly 
emaciating for want of the substantials necessary to keep 
a dog effective. In fact our property became rapidly 
absorbed by the various kinds of demands made upon 
it by that new region ; our two pigs grew so thin that 
they walked out at a crack in their pen, and we never 
knew anything further of their history ; probably if the 
bears that infested the neighborhood could speak the 
English language they might be able to contribute 
something as to the closing scenes in the lives of those 
two hogs. At the end of six months we walked out of 
that country, with our family, all the members ot which 



146 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

had been spared by a merciful providence, though in a 
considerably demoralized condition — and headed our 
domestic procession toward the nearest settlement. 
With the baby on one arm, and the grindstone under 
the other— all the property that remained, as the cart 
had fallen to pieces through the influence of the dry at- 
mosphere — we finally reached civilization. The oldest 
boy led the remains of the last dog with a piece of bark 
attached in the vicinity of where the dog's bark was lo- 
cated in his more palmy days, and previous to his losing 
so much of his wonted vigor. It is impossible for those 
not knowing how it is themselves, to appreciate the 
soul-soothing comfort enjoyed since, by that family, in 
the full consciousness of having made so liberal and use- 
ful a contribution toward the noble work of opening up 
a new country. And we say to all desiring free homes 
in the West, and especially if you are a discontented 
mechanic and know nothing about farming, go thou, 
and you'll do likewise. 




ODD HOURS. 147 





THINGS HAVE CHANGED. 



HERE they go, and we are reminded. The 
things that are going are two horses — loaded 
with bells — a big sleigh loaded with youth and 
beauty, or, in other words, shouting, laughing boys and 
girls. The bright moon-beams glitter on the frosty 
snow, and the bells chime out on the clear winter air, 
while the passengers — if they only realize it — are in the 
midst of one of the few rollicking, careless, happy acts 
of life. They will pardon us if we sit back here on a 
nail-keg, in our dimly-lit sanctum, and just merely inti- 
mate to ourself that they are a pack of addle-headed, 
giggling ninnies, running out the life of the poor horses 
to serve their foolishness. You see, the writer has been 
there, and knows how it is himself. We thought it was 
perfectly enchanting then, and the most proper thing on 
top of earth — or under it, for that matter. But you see, 
when crows-feet begin to cluster about one's eyes, 
forming festoons of dignity and staidness, things seem 
different. We can scarcely credit our senses when we 
say we have been there and actually enjoyed it. Just 
crawling into the back seat, on the bottom of a sleigh, 
snuggling down between two robes, with Deborah Jane 



i 4 S UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

Smith close to us on the south side and right between 
the same identical coverlets and blankets. Whew ! 
And when the sleigh runner would strike even the small- 
est obstruction on our side, how it would set us over 
southward, and the same with Deb. on the other side. 
How we would finally just slide our arm around her 
waist, for fear the sled would strike some little frozen 
thing in the road, and that sweet creature, D. J. Smith, 
Esquiress, would go up in a baloon, and leave us forev- 
er ; such a mishap we knew to be entirely improbable, 
but you see we were animated by an innate desire to 
leave no stone unturned to avoid the most remote pos- 
sibility in the case, and Deborah always seemed to co- 
incide as to the wisdom of our precautionary move- 
ments, and so we hung on. The bells jingle now just 
as they did then ; the five miles to the taffy-pull, apple- 
cut or spelling-school, seemed to be only as many rods, 
and at that time we were about the same quality of fool 
as those who just chased by our door ; running chiefly 
to " girl " and the cultivation of a sickly mustache. 
Alas ! tor those days. Tis ignorant to be bliss, when 
'tis wise to be foolish. Poor Deborah ; she thought " a 
heap " of us, and at that time would have contracted to 
do our washing for life, at a very low rate ; and we 
longed to cut stove-wood in the back yard, for her com- 
fort, just as long as we were able to shoulder an axe. 
But it was of no use ; we never made the " set-off," and 
now Deb. spanks another fellow's babies, and we cut 
wood and pack wash- water for another person. But, 
as we remarked at the beginning, things have changed. 
Sleigh-bells have no charm ior us now ; they have been 



ODD HOURS. H9 

displaced by rattle-boxes, and sleighs, by hobby-horses. 
Instead of riding now, we go on foot, because it is more 
within our means, and far healthier, you know. Instead 
of spending our evenings at taffy-pulls, etc., we do all 
manner of chores about the ranch where we reside, trot 
baby on our knee till it aches, shave kindlings, rock the 
cradle, look after the paragoric department, and any 
such harmless and exhilerating pastimes as may be ly- 
ing about loose requiring attention. And, while rioting 
amid such tangible sports as these, is it to be wondered 
at that we should vote these sleigh-riders a pack of silly 
creatures ? — Sour grapes ! 




NATURES DECAY, 



S WE sit in the seclusion of a viny bower, in 
l the twilight of a dying day, a feeling of saddest 
melancholy steals unbidden o'er our heart. AH 
Nature, save her warning sentinels, is hushed to a si- 
lence that weighs heavily down upon mind and soul. 
The tide of human struggle has sought its harbor for the 
night, and now, in the repose of eventide, the little stars 
peep out with modest twinkle from behind their veil|of 
blue. Even the last warble of the songster has closed, 
and the sweet singer has sought his leafy bower to await 
the approach of a new-born day. The silence of the 
time is worse than broken, however, by the rasping rat- 
tle — the mournful creaking — of the night harbingers of 
the season, and the cricket and katy-did tell us again 



i 5 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

that the green robe of the earth is fading, and life in all 
of Nature's beauty is drawing to a close. The foliage 
is already changing with the palor of death, and soon 
all will drop, hery-hued, to enrich the mother earth with 
their decaying fibers. The sounds of the insect warners 
of approaching death is grand in its monotonous mel- 
ancholy, and the heart is filled with sadness as the mind 
reflects upon the end of life. By eye and ear we are 
warned of the near and speedy approach of that dark 
chamber which will receive our expended forms, and 
hold, for perhaps ceaseless ages, the very forgetfulness 
of our souls. How near it is we know not, we only 
know that it is near. All this dying beauty about us is 
but a warning; we sprout up in childhood, bloom in 
youth and, in faded semblance of our former selves, are 
quickly plucked from the bough of life, and laid low in 
an earthy receptacle; as quickly to be forgotten and 
succeeded as the crimson leaf, that pleases the eye for 
an instant, in its passage from its parent stem to its 
grand-parent earth. The early- autumn evening is inex- 
pressibly sad in its melancholy silence, and in its dying 
beauty and sounds — passing, passing away. 




ODD HOURS, 151 





THREE OLD GENTLEMEN. 



APPENING into a store the other evening, we 
discovered three venerable old gentlemen en- 
gaged in a regular old-fashioned confab, in 
which they were living over the days of their boyhood 
and young manhood. All being intelligent men, with 
lives brim full of " scene " and " event," we became in- 
tensely interested as we quietly listened to the stories 
and experiences of men who were men before we were 
born. 

One old gentleman was descanting upon the charac- 
teristics and peculiarities of the various peoples of the 
earth, and he asserted that the Laplanders were the 
most honorable and honest people in the world. At 
this, another of the trio became a little nervous, and as 
he looked over his spectacles very sharply at the speak- 
er, he remarked : 

" Now, friend A , be a leetle careful when you say 

the Laplanders are the honestest of all people. I think 
there's a heap of honest folks that ain't Laplanders — I 
b'lieve Americans average tolerable, like, with any body 
else, you know." 

" Oh, yes, neighbor B fl returned the first speak* 

20 



152 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

er, " I ain't sayin' anything against the Americans — I 
believe my own people are good. But, neighbor, let me 
tell you how honest the Laplanders are. A friend of 
mine was traveling in that country once, over the eter- 
nal fields of snow, in a sledge drawn by dogs ; it was a 
day's journey sometimes trom one settlement to anoth- 
er. This friend of mine stayed all night with a family 
of them, and the next day made a very long day's jour- 
ney over a dreary waste of country, arriving at a settle- 
ment very late in the evening, having traveled nearly a 
hundred miles. After he had become settled for the 
night, had eaten his supper, and was about to lie down 
on his robes, in the hospitable hut, another arrival was 
announced at the door, and in a moment more the Lap- 
lander woman at whose hut he had spent the previous 
night, entered. Of course, my friend was greatly as- 
tonished to see her, and inquired what ' in nat'er's name ' 
she came so far after him, and what could have induced 
her to brave the perils of such a trip. She smiled, and 
after seating herself on a rug before the fire, she asked 
him if he had not lost something. He said he hadn't 
missed any part of his effects, but suddenly thought of 
his money, and felt in his pouch, and found that a bag, 
containing several hundred dollars, was gone, when he 
excitedly assured her that all his gold was missing. She 
smiled again, reached into the bosom of her fur wraps, 
and drew forth the bag, saying she had found it shortly 
after his departure ; that she had hastened to overtake 
him, with her own sledge and dogs, that she might re- 
store to him his lost treasure — and she handed my 
friend his money-bag, with not a coin missing. My 



ODD HOURS. 153 

friend, as may well be imagined, was well nigh over- 
whelmed by such an evidence of honor and integrity, 
and hastened to offer her a share of it as a reward for 
her honesty and the hardships she had undergone that 
she might restore it to him. But — would you believe 
it ? — no amount of entreaty could induce her to accept 
of a single piece of it. She modestly said that her peo- 
ple never accepted pay for being honest — that their be- 
lief and practice was to be honest because of the beauty 
of honesty alone ; and all the reward he was permitted 
to bestow upon her was a warm kiss on her forehead — 
which is the manner in that country of acknowledging 
a courtesy or favor. " Now," continued the speaker, 
with a slight air of triumph, " how many Americans are 
as honest and Godlike as that poor Laplander woman, 
neighbor B ? " 

" Well now, I acknowledge that was a really noble 
act ; but I insist there's lots of Americans who'd be just 
as honorable as that — I b'lieve I'd do it myself; wouldn't 

you, friend C ? " addressing the third old gentleman, 

who had been quietly listening. 

"Well, no; I don't think I'd have followed him so 
far — but I might have kept it for him," he replied. 

" Well, now," continued the defender of American 
honor, " I know of an instance that will go to show that 
Americans are just as honest as Laplanders. It was the 
time of the Revolutionary War, and my father knew the 
man well. He was a man who had been pressed into 
the British army ; he got a chance to desert and made 
his escape to the little American army, an' it was just 
before the surrender of Burgoyne. As he was making 



i 5 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

his way along to the American lines, he came upon a 
monstrons canvas bag of gold lying right in the road ; 
it was so heavy that he could scarcely carry it, and so 
he dragged it along to a neighboring field, where plow- 
ing had been done, and he just lifted up one of the sods, 
laid the bag in, and tipped the sod back, covering the 
money completely from sight, and, after making an ob- 
servation or two, so that he might find it again, contin- 
ued on his way. After traveling an hour or so, he met 
a man on a powerful horse, coming like mad along the 
road, the animal white with foam. As he came near 
he shouted to the footman : 

" My man, have you traveled this road far ? " 

" A considerable distance," he replied. 

■ Did you find anything ? " he nervously asked as he 
drew up his fretful and prancing steed. 

" Have you lost anything ? " 

"Yes, indeed!" he almost screamed; "I am the 
paymaster of Washington's army, and I was on my way, 
with a bag of gold, to pay off the soldiers. I have lost 
the gold out of my saddle-bags somewhere, and if I can- 
not find it I will have to fly from the country." 

" 'That is a sad thing/ replied the footman ; * come, 
and I will go back with you and assist in the search, 
and we may be able to at least find some trace of the 
missing treasure/ M 

• After a careful march of several miles, watching for 
even a sign that might indicate where it had been lost, 
the footman suddenly stopped and said : 

" ■ Here ! This looks like a mark in the dust where 
it had been dropped, and dragged away/ Then he 



ODD H&URS. 155 

went away over into the fields turned back the sod, 
dragged out the sack of gold, and lifted it up to the 
horseman, who was in a perfect and trembling ecstacy 
of joy. He nervously tore open the mouth of the sack 
and handed down to the footman a handful of the shin- 
ing gold, but he met with this reply : 

" ' No, sir ; I want none of it ; I am an American, and 
have just fled from the British army, and am making 
my way to the Americans to give them my assistance 
against the oppressors of our country; take the gold 
and pay it all to the poor suffering soldiers, who need 
it far more than I do, and I will follow you on foot as 
fast as possible.' There now," remarked the speaker; 
" isn't that a parallel case of honesty ? " 

" Oh, yes ; but in those days there were patriots in 
America ! " 

"Well, there are plenty ot patriots in this country 
yet. Look at the heroism that was displayed in the 
war of the Rebellion ! I know there are piles of rascals 
in the land ; but I tell you there's an army of honest 
patriots, too." 

" Oh, yes, that's so, I'll allow. How's your apple- 
trees coming out this spring, neighbor B — — ; were 
any of your young trees killed by the frost and sun- 
shine?" 

Thus ended a pleasant little scrap of conversation be- 
tween three noble old gentlemen, in which was blended 
both interest and history. Men who can speak of such 
events from personal knowledge are growing scarce and 
the interest and value of their recitals are correspond- 
ingly increased. 



$6 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





A QUIET WALK. 



MORNING or two ago was a quiet, monoton- 
lous kind of a morning ; a morning when one 
could feel sort of sad without singing any. We 
felt constrained to take a walk, and so we did. Solitude 
is good, when one feels solitary, and so we sought the 
seclusion of the groves. As we remarked, it was a 
singularly singular morning ; a quiet, damp air stirred 
the boughs overhead; all nature seemed in repose; 
everything acted as if waiting for something to happen. 
The little birds sat quietly on the limbs, some of them 
engaged in making their morning toilet, by stroking 
down their glossy feathers, or picking fleas and things 
out from under their wings. The untiring grub worms 
were the only creatures that seemed to be full of busi- 
ness. As we would pass a dead tree, several of them 
could be heard inside the decayed trunk, their saws 
cutting away with regular and unceasing energy, just as 
though they had a government contract in war time. 
Pretty soon the quietude of the time was broken by a 
loon which passed over screaming as though some great 
convulsion of the elements followed in his rear. From 
over the stream came the sad, plaintive lullaby of the 



ODD HOURS. 157 

Indian mother, as in its barken cradle she rocked the 
infant to and fro, for the purpose, no doubt, of distract- 
ing its attention from the pangs of an early attack of 
the stomach-ache ; the murmur of the river, the moan 
of the zephyrs among the tops of the pine trees, all con- 
spired to make one feel as though it were " a fearful 
thing to live." We felt the force of this quotation to al- 
most an oppressive extent, and agreed with ourself that 
there was only one thing that could " raise it " in the 
way of fearfulness, and that was, to die. We would 
stake our money on living, fearful as it is, at all times 
and under all circumstances, however, win or lose. Our 
soul seemed sad ; and the reflections incident to soli- 
tude crowded in upon our mind to such an extent that 
we seemed transported to another world, for the time 
being, and were unconscious of everything save the 
most sublime meditations as we gazed away up into the 
blue vault of heaven ; so deeply intensified had become 
our whole being that it is very difficult to decide wheth- 
er or no we should not have been actually taken away 
from this cold earth then and there, had it not been for 
the timely relief brought to us by a neighbor's dog. He 
had probably seen us through the trees, "mooning 
around n in what seemed to him a most idiotic manner, 
and deemed our case one that demanded immediate 
and earnest consideration, — his earnestness was praise- 
worthy ; the first pass he made earned away our rear 
guard altogether, and had we not been fortunate enough 
to find a club near at hand, his next assault would prob- 
ably carried our rear bastion completely. Fortunately, 
however, we dissuaded him from any further advances, 



i S 8 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

and being fully brought to consciousness again, we 
sought our ivy-cot, by the back way, arriving just in 
time for breakfast, and during the breakfast-hour we ex- 
plained how it all happened, and got our trousers mend- 
ed. 




HIGH GATES. 



9 ARENTS who have any regard tor the comfort 

rof young cooing lovers should remember to 
construct their front gates only high enough 
for young people to enjoy a cozy lean-too over the top 
of it. A few evenings ago he called upon the object of 
his affection, and after tarrying within, until an ad- 
vanced hour in the evening, she accompanied him to 
the gate to take a last little leave of him, and have a 
last little talk thereover. It was at a residence up on 

street, and the gate to that place is very high, and 

the lovers could neither get elbow rests, nor could they 
reach over the top to get a little " smack." So, as they 
just happened to remember that there was one little 
point that they hadn't talked over quite enough, they 
slid along to the gate of the next neighbor — a few feet 
to the left— which offered all the conveniences for such 
a momentous occasion, and we leave them, for a mo- 
ment, to see what the owner of the invaded premises 
was doing. He was a very wakeful old gentleman, and 
hearing his gate creak he rose from his bed and peering 
out from behind the curtain he distinguished, in the very 



ODD HOURS. , 59 

uncertain light without, what he took for two robbers, 
making their final arrangements for a descent upon his 
home, and his spoons, and his Brittannia ware. To nip 
their infamous plan in the bud, the venerable gentleman 
slipped out to the back shed, where Carlo was tied up, 
and unbuckling the collar and opening the back door 
he remarked, -Seek 'im Carlo!" and then hurried 
through to the front window to take notes. He arrived 
just in time to see a cloud of crinoline sailing for his 
neighbor's door, as Carlo came tearing round into the 
front yard ; and in less time than it takes to tell it— yea, 
less than it does to think it -Carlo had struck a point 
on the remaining robber, and proceeded to flush him in 
the most impetuous manner. About all the astonished 
old gentleman could observe, in short, was the scream- 
ing object rushing toward his neighbor's, a white streak 
—Carlo—shooting toward the gate, and a dark column 
going down street like an avalanche, yelling, " Git 
eout! " at the end of every distinct canter. The next 
morning, however, the old gentleman found, out at the 
gate, a white handkerchief, and an irregularly square 
piece of steel-gray cassimere, a remnant of shirting and 
a cardinal red necktie. It was really a stirring moment 
and although the old gentleman is one of the kindest 
and best ot men, he is worse than a run of smallpox on 
" robbers," and so is Carlo. 



-^->>~4«-.<«. 



21 



i6o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





WASHLNG DAY. 



,HIS is a day of great celebrity, more ancient 
than St. Patrick's day or Washington's birthday. 
In all well regulated families, this holiday occurs 
fifty-two times in the year, and Monday is the day set 
apart for its observance. But as the Jews and Christians 
disagree as to which day of the week Sunday comes on, 
so, different families disagree as to which day washing 
day comes ; some even stave it off until Saturday after- 
noon, and do their ironing the next week. In familie> 
that are well put together, however, washing day comes 
about four a. m., on Monday morning. The first in- 
timation the head of the household receives of its com- 
ing, is a sharp nudge somewhere in the vicinity of the 
fifth rib, just as he is indulging in a fine feast, or attend- 
ing a wedding, in his dreams ; he is informed that it is 
wash day, and, as the washing is peculiarly heavy that 
week, an early start is indispensible ; he is called 
11 Dear Albert, get up," several times, and at last, in a 
fearfully agitated state of mind, and stupid for the want 
of just two hours' more sleep, he slides out on the floor, 
and sits down on the oil-cloth to cool off till he can 
wake up. Finally he gropes about and gets his pants 



ODD HOURS. 161 

and stumbles into them, but does not discover that he 
has them on wrong side in front, until he goes to button 
on his suspenders. Wife tells him about this time to 
build a fire, put on the boiler, carry a tub full of water 
and separate the colored clothing from the white, and 
if she can get the baby to sleep, she will be out by that 
time ; of course you are to put on the tea-kettle, grind 
the coffee, cut the meat and split up some wood in the 
meantime. After a while Albert comes to the tub and 
puts his first turn of water into the thing, only to see it 
spurt out of every crack and go toward dampening the 
vegetation just outside the door ; it has been left in the 
sun since the last similar holiday, and the staves are 
standing around in rows like a platoon of drunken sol- 
diers. There is only one way to mend that tub, and 
that is to keep it damp till it swells shut. He pushes 
the upper hoop up a little, gets some more water, and 
with the dipper keeps the thing damp all around while 
he reclines on the floor, his legs on either side of the es- 
tablishment, waiting patiently for the swelling to devel- 
op itself. Wife gets the baby asleep about seven a, m., 
and comes out to find the fire out, the kettle boiled dry, 
the flies all over the meat, and the dear husband she 
routed out at four o'clock, in happy unconsciousness 
of passing events, leaning over the tub fast asleep. 
"House-warming" commences about this time, by 
building a fire and introducing a series of lectures more 
animated than classical. Albert responds but feebly, 
but is encouraged a little by seeing that the staves of the 
tub have in the meantime waltzed together, and the tub 
ready for any reasonable amount of moisture. He strikes 



i62 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

out for the well, while the chairs, table and dishes are 
dancing merrily inside, and things about that particular 
kitchen are emphatically lively ; for, lost time must be 
made up. Albert, thoroughly aroused by this time per- 
fectly deluges every hollow vessel in the house, and 
winds up by kicking the cat clear into the next room, 
and giving the dog an " early start " by sousing the last 
bucket of water all over him. Finally Albert gets 
through with his part of the observance, and, after an 
extremely frugal repast, he betakes himself to business, 
thinking that an early start on washing day, and a pleas- 
ant wife, are among the prime blessings of earth. 



AN EDLTOR AS A DEER HUNTER. 




OR twenty or thirty days, as we passed along 
I the street, or happened into the village post- 
office, during the prevalence of the first snows, 
we could hear but little among the leisure men save 
broken sentences, such as " Good tracking day," — 
"Deer"— "Fat now"— "Two every day," etc. At 
first we did not notice these mutterings that might be 
heard around the bar-room stoves and the street cor- 
ners, because the subject was one out of our line, and 
but Greek, in phraseology to us, at best. But after 
hearing such talk for a week or two, it began to sound 
like the tick of an ancient clock, or the endless rasping 
of a grub- worm in a fence- post. These were the pre- 
monitory symptoms. The third week we began to dream 



ODD HOURS. 163 

of parks filled with deer, and of ourself roosting on the 
fence shooting them down with a squirt-gun and skin- 
ning them with a candle. Every night we were at it, 
until hunting deer became our nightmare, and we actu- 
ally became possessed of the buck tremens. We finally 
told wife how it was, and that nothing would appease 
us save blood and venison steak ; we felt it to be our 
duty to go forth and bring forth a buck, and so forth ; 
because, our children must have meat, and there was 
nothing that would prevent an attack ot scurvy in the 
family like good fat venison. Sure enough, that very 
evening the snow clouds rolled up in the west, and a 
fresh fall of that article sufficient for good tracking was 
inevitable. During the afternoon and evening all was 
life and animation wherever we moved — for you see we 
had it bad. At the office we fixed things to admit of 
our absence a day or two, and purchased an ample sup- 
ply of the munitions of war. We sat down and wrote 
several very vigorous editorial articles— -one on the 
financial condition of the world previous to the flood as 
a sort of an excuse for the present hard times for mon- 
ey ; one, giving our opinion as to what the hieroglyph- 
ics on the inside of the Pyramids of Egypt meant in 
English ; an exhaustive article to the effect that the sheep 
over which King David presided, when a boy, were 
nothing more nor less than the deer of the present day, 
and a treatise upon the most successful manner of hunt- 
ing the wild deer, which we wrote up for publication in 
our paper for the especial benefit of amateur sportsmen. 
We left plenty of " copy " so that our office boy might 
not run short of business, while we went into the adjac- 



j6 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

ent forests to take a supply of venison for the winter* 
When tea time arrived we reported at our domicile, 
loaded down with supplies, including a hundred cart- 
ridges which had to be warmed, and the tallow wiped 
off them, during the evening, besides an immense 
amount of other fixing up, so as to be prepared for a 
large amount of slaughter, and be as well fixed as the 
fifty other hunters who would be sure to be out next 
morning. We had to grind our tomahawk, whet the 
knife, oil up the rifle, test the compass with the poker, 
provide matches, get a hunting suit prepared, and a 
four o'clock breakfast set at half-cock in order to facili- 
tate matters in the morning. But, upon entering the 
rear door of our cot, wife met us with a reminder that 
the neighborhood " sociable " met that evening, and as 
it was the first sociable of the season it was our bounden 
duty to attend ; it would never do not to go to the first 
sociable, she continued, as she seated herself and 
worked away at darning up the various places in our 
best pants that had been rented, like. After disencum- 
bering ourself of our cargo, we sat down on the edge of 
the washtub to think a little. We had clean forgotten 
the sociable ; wife was right — we ought to attend ; she 
was always right, and we knew it. Accordingly we vig- 
orously went to work rubbing the grease off the cart- 
ridges up to " sociable " hour, and after we came back 
labored faithfully in our preparations until after mid- 
night, in the interest of deer and on behalf of a meat 
hungry family. Daylight found us in the wilderness, 
and sunrise revealed to us a " fresh track," and we vig- 
orously and watchfully pursued that deer most of the 



ODD HOURS. 165 

day. Although only an amateur ourself, we telt sure 
our operations in rear of that animal bordered closely 
on the professional ; whenever coming to an " opening " 
we would strike an animated canter, and when in the 
thick brush we elongated our neck, ever and anon 
creeping on hands and knees through the tangled brush 
wood, straining our eyes, and maintaining a ceaseless 
cock on both ears for sounds. We had often heard old 
hunters telling about " close hunting ; " and we resolved 
that if close hunting would overhaul the venison we 
had followed the livelong day, he was bound to become 
our meat before nightfall. Just as the sun was settling 
down behind the jack-pine forest in the west, we ran 
across another hunter, who had a fine deer on his back 
and was trudging toward town with the result of his 
day's chase. We conferred with him as to what was 
necessary in order that we might get our deer similarly 
located with his, and showed him the beautiful fresh 
track we had been following, round and round, all day. 
He gazed at it briefly, and then, as he smole a smile, 
he informed us that it was quite unreasonable for us to 
expect to find a deer by following a rabbit track — no 
matter if we followed it for six months. For about a 
minute or two we felt like a victim of the yellow jaun- 
dice ; our legs got weak, and we commenced perspir- 
ing. We felt homesick, and wanted to go home if we 
could do so, and feel as though we hadn't been gone. 
We got the man to promise that, if we would carry his 
deer home for him, he wouldn't say anything about it. 
We did, and he didn't. 



1 66 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





A STROLL. 

E STRAYED away from the " din," the other 
day, and after a due amount of manual labor 
and leg-weariness, we found ourself sitting on 
the highast peak that peaks in this vicinity. Talk about 
high, too, that peak was high, you better believe. We 
sat with our legs — our limbs, pardon us — dangling over 
the crags, and our soul soaring aloft o'er the world be- 
low—our boot-sole, we refer to— while our perspiring 
and manly brow was softly wiped by the hands of 
fairies with the silken cobwebs of the skies \ the wings 
of the passing zephyrs fanned our " royal cheek," and 
the flaky cloudlets hung like a canopy of lace, woven by 
fairy fingers, over head, and we sat among the spirits of 
the air peering out from the rich iolds of our throne and 
gazing down, down, down, upon the common world 
below. A green pasture in the vale beneath was dotted 
with a looing herd, and we heard them loo in their low- 
ly vale — some black, some brindle, and others pale. 
They nipped the grass and wagged their tail, or 
scratched their sides against a rail. The lambs in the 
pasture skipped and jumped, the jaybird sang and 
the bittern pumped. The soft rays of an evening 



ODD HOURS. 167 

sun fell warmly upon the landscape, and tinged the blue 
lake with streaks of gold, and made darker the shadows 
of the distant hills. As we gazed out and down upon 
the beautiful world filled with its fretted throng, we felt 
like a king — a sunbeam for a scepter, and the crescent 
moon for a crown. This fancy did not last long, how- 
ever, for just as our imagination had placed us as a king- 
ly commander at the head of the human family, a 
" business " fairy rested on the south corner of our ear 
and whispered softly that it was time we "climbed 
down " from our elevation and proceeded home to saw 
some wood with which to cook the supper. This broke 
the beautiful chain of fancy, and we felt anew our com- 
mon mortality ; we pinched ourself to make sure, and 
cried " Ouch ! * and then, lighting our cob pipe, we 
prepared to come down from among the guests of 
heaven's portico, to the common level of the wheel 
barrow brigade. But, some day, we shall ascend the 
cliffs again, and wink love to Venus and flip pebbles 
into the clouds beneath us. 



A Chicago communist predicts that the red flag 
of the commune " is destined in the near future to oc- 
cupy a higher position than the ■ Star-spangled Ban- 
ner.' " That chap ought to be spoken to by a cannon, 
loaded with skunks. 



If "charity covers a multitude of sins," about how 
many does an average church fair cover ? 



22 



168 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





OUR AMBITIONS. 



N EARLY life the average American boy be- 
comes infatuated with almost everything, but 
permanently attached to nothing. Of course, 
his opportunity for seeing the world has a good deal to 
do with his ambitions during boyhood; generally, the 
more things he sees, and the less he sees of them, the 
more ardent is his desire to adopt the life of every kind 
of man suggested by the sights he has witnessed — the 
strange and attractive glimpses he has been favored 
with. The country boy, for instance, is liable to have 
his ambition aroused to do something in the world, for 
the first time, when the old chap comes round to mend 
tinware — the i/merant tinker. When he sees his moth- 
er getting out her leaky coffee-pot, her dipper that needs 
a new bottom, the biscuit-cutter that wants the handle 
soldered on, and sees, the professional man locating 
himself in the corner, with all the assurance of a public 
benefactor, and the professional nonchalance of a man 
who has mastered his business in its various ramirica- 
tions r from mending a pint cup to fastening the handle 
on to a tin pepper-box, the young American receives 
his first stroke of do-somethingness. He generally takes 



ODD HOURS. ,69 

up a position in front of the tinkerinktum professor, and 
with his hands behind his back, his tongue out, and his 
legs bowed back, he gazes with admiring wonder, giv- 
ing evidence of the intensity of his thoughts by sort of 
snoring and working the big toe of his left foot ; and 
the old tinsmith can rest assured that, for once, he is 
looked upon as the greatest known mogul — the dia- 
mond-pointed, and crowning glory of the human fami- 
ly, — the sunflower of creation. For the month follow- 
ing, he teases his mother to try and prevail upon his 
father to have him educated for a tinker, and this is his 
tirst ambition — the first visible development of the bud 
that one day is to develop into the full-blown rose of 
success. Of course, this disturbance of his soul is but 
the beginning of the series, and only lasts till the clock- 
fixer comes around, or the family cobbler makes his an- 
nual visit — when he revels in pictures of the future, com- 
posed of brass wheels, pendulums, and of pegs, half- 
soles, awls, bristles and wax. AH these and many other 
grand vocations he resolves to adopt, in their turn, and 
dreams of them at night, in undisturbed bliss until he, 
unluckily for his peace of mind, attends the first circus 
— then, his contentment and serenity of mind are liter- 
ally torn in tatters. The wonderiul beings he sees 
there, and the still more wonderful things he sees them 
doing, bewilder his senses for a year afterward. The 
clown, the riders, and the tumblers who spring through 
the air in their spangled tights almost upset his reason, 
and he soon conceives the idea pf aspiring to even so 
great and dizzy a height in the ^catalogue of human 
possibilities. Thus he goes on from one object to an- 



lyo UNCLE DUDLEYS 

other till he reaches his majority, and is next seen in the 
streets of the city, starting out for himself in the world. 
With his earthly treasures done up in a bandana hand- 
kerchief, and a card of gingerbread in his hand, he 
saunters along the crowded thoroughfare, with upturned 
face reading the world of signs along the street, in al- 
most unconscious astonishment. Right here is one of 
the most important points in his life -journey. He is all 
adrift with no other object in view than the procuring 
of his first job. His natural abilities and his attainments 
are sufficient, if developed by the proper friction, to 
make a man of him ; but not enough, probably, to raise 
him from the misfortune of a first wrong or unlucky- 
step — a start into a channel that will lead him gradually 
lower instead of steadily higher. So, really, we seem to 
be children of fate, and after all, chance settles our lives, 
in a majority of cases ; for, as we all have experienced 
similar ambitions during our earlier days, so have we 
drifted into the various positions we occupy in life — in- 
to the vocations we now follow — without scarcely choos- 
ing in advance, or knowing beforehand what was likely 
to transpire to fix our after course in the world. A 
11 straw " can, and does, make or unmake a life. 




ODD HOURS. 171 





LEARNING TO MILK. 



URING a somewhat varied life, we have taken 
ta hand at almost everything, from being boss of 
a stone-quarry down to running the culinary de- 
partment of a flatboat. We had come to boast that 
there was scarcely anything we hadn't done, and there 
were mighty few things we couldn't do — in our own 
mind there were not any of the latter. It was only re- 
cently that we ran against something that we hadn't 
tried before, and which we have not accomplished, even 
at the present writing. Our folks got a cow ; the ques 
tion was raised as to who should do the milking ; after 
a good deal of earnest caucusing, it was unanimously 
resolved that,— your " Uncle Dudley " should have the 
honor of attending to that little ceremony, morning and 
evening. Having been chosen to the position of milk- 
maid by an unanimous vote, we could not find it in our 
gizzard to decline. We never had milked, and were 
somewhat bashful in the presence of a cow, anyway, — 
and this one was a frisky sort of heifer, too. But, we 
had always heard that kindness would enable a person 
to become ever so familiar with a dumb animal of al- 
most any sort ; so, with a tin bucket suspended from 



f7? UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

our left arm and our hat over on our right ear, we start- 
ed for the quarters occupied by her heifership out in 
the barn, whistling " Comin' thro' the Rye," by way of 
keeping our courage up, and letting her know that we 
were, in a kindly frame of mind. 

As we entered the barn we remarked, " So-o-o, Ma- 
riar ! nice cow-y, so-o-o ! " She responded, " Baw-aw- 
aw ! " or words to that effect, as she surveyed us by a 
long, interested stare, and she stepped around some- 
what nervously and observed, " Moo-oo-oo-e ! " We 
said " So-o-o-a ! " several times, and then slipped in 
along side of her, called her pet names, and kind of 
reached full arm length, to catch hold of the dairy di- 
vision of her anatomy ; she kicked up terribly on that 
flank, and we retired precipitately, though in tolerably 
good order, to the rear — the tin bucket catching the 
hett of the first pass made by her north-west heel. The 
bucket sort of caved in some on the side where she 
struck it; pretty soon it occurred to us that we might 
have advanced on the " wrong side " — that possibly she 
was used to being milked left-handed. After saying sev- 
eral endearing things that we imagined would come 
within the appreciation of an intelligent cow, we ven- 
tured in on the other side, and stroked her a little with 
the tips of our fingers. Then we got down on our knees 
and reached out and grasped hold of one of the protu- 
berances underneath, that was a part of the lacteal tank, 
or udder. She immediately scratched our hand off with 
her hind foot, and a second pass knocked off our hat 
and skinned our left ear. Then we took a back seat 
again, and contemplated the situation and made a few 



ODD HOURS. 173 

remarks, more or less pertinent to the condition of 
things, as they then stood. Our Irish blood commenced 
racking .our Yankee frame, and we concluded if that 
was her game, we'd see. Getting the wrecked bucket 
well up on our arm, we advanced to the fray with a de 
termined caution, that meant business — we had first 
thought of throwing up earthworks and advancing un- 
der cover, but that last kick altered our plans: Watch- 
ing a favorable opportunity we closed in with her, got 
our left leg locked in with her hind ones, to keep her 
from kicking the bucket or our ear again, and gobbled 
on with both hands to the protuberances aforesaid; 
about that lime the "bawl" opened. She gave one 
challenging snort, ran ahead into the manger, flew up 
behind, and before we had time to get settled to our 
work we were standing on our head and shoulders out 
in the middle of the barn floor. Our pants were half 
torn on, and several teeth had become loosened in some 
way, and that bucket looked like a gaudy tinsel, and 
was about the shape of a saddle-flap or a Chinese fan. 
Then we took another rest — the exercise was almost too 
vigorous to keep right at it all the time. After figuring 
oh the probability of our winning or dying by following 
that sort of amusement up, it seemed to figure out that 
many such onslaughts would wear us out, while the cow 
would remain in good health. Besides, it was well to 
find some one thing in life that we couldn't do, else our 
vanity might ruin us— and to milk that heifer seemed 
to be the one thing we couldn't do, successfully, in this 
world. Some people can never get the " slight '' of 
milking a cow. We returned home and tolofthV family 




166 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

that our " slight " was bad, and that we should be re- 
luctantly (in a horn) compelled to decline the honor 
they had seen fit to confer — that we could do anything 
else but milk. 



COLLECTING, 



OLLECTIONS are lively these days. We 
traveled all day on Monday last, determined to 
raise the wind " or nearly perish in the at- 
tempt — for we had grown weary of gazing at the old 
unpaid accounts that adorned the pages of our account- 
book. After laboring all day with our delinquents, we 
sat down about dusk on a lonesome corner of a back 
street to take an account of what we had collected dur- 
ing the day, and found we had accomplished wonders 
— when considering the fact that we are a very poor 
collector, and that it is a close time for money. We 
found that we had collected the following amounts of 
money and chattels, all of which we were carrying 
homeward in a monster tin pan — which was one among 
the number of articles we had secured — to wit : First, 
we pulled out a large iron spoon, and laid it down on 
the grass ; next came a tin pepper-box ; then a ten-cent 
scrip ; a pound of starch, two bars of soap, a pound of 
stearine candles, and then a twenty-rive cent scrip; 
next came a tin stew-pan, and a match-safe ; some more 
scrip, and a dollar bill, with its northeast corner torn off 
and missing ; next was fifty cents worth of coffee and 



ODD HOURS. 1 75 

four ounces of tea j a sack of dairy salt, and a stone- 
china butter-dish; then a set of tea-spoons— crinkled 
tin— and another pepper box ; this seemed to us an un- 
due number of pepper boxes, but never mind — it was a 
second hand box, and was the only thing the poor man 
had, who owed us, and so we took it, that he might be 
entirely unencumbered with personal property. Then 
we yanked out a gridiron, and a dozen patent clothes- 
pins ; three five-cent, and five three-cent nickels ; then 
a bottle of pepper-sauce, a box of condition powders, 
and a large piece of earthen ware with a handle on one 
side. This was the result, and after all, we flattered 
ourself that there were many worse collectors in the 
world than ourself. As the entire bill of goods lay all 
about on the green grass, the sight was a rich one, and 
we fancied ourself an East Indian merchantman, rec- 
ently returned from a successful voyage. After feast- 
ing our eyes for a time, we gave a stout boy the odd 
pepper box to help us repack our effects and bring them 
into camp. Those persons who still owe us, can rest 
assured that we are " well heeled " on everything ex- 
cept money ; we could handle a good deal more of 
that than we possess, with considerable satisfaction. 




23 



176 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





AFFECTATION. 



,HIS age is full of it ; and when we think of its 
universal existence it is with a feeling of unaf- 
*>fected disgust. Look into all grades of society ; 
look out upon the street ; look into the public halls ; 
into the churches, even, where the supposition is that 
sinners gather only to kneel in supplication for mercy 
and forgiveness. Upon every hand, as a rule, and with 
only isolated exceptions, the false stands out so brazen- 
ly and so universally as to have well-nigh crushed out 
the last vestige of the honest simplicity and true-heart- 
edness that characterized a century ago. The poison 
of self-show having gained the upper hand in all the 
public channels of life, is even storming the sacred bat- 
tlements of the domestic circle, and of home — the only 
remaining asylum where candid humanity may expect 
to find a refuge from the blighted mould of the prevail- 
ing affectation of the time. Dignity has been exchanged 
for it; true comfort has been extinguished by it, and 
virtue itself is allured from its throne and totters into the 
foul gulf set for its destruction. 

This is a strong picture, but one that will prove itself 
by reflection. Halt, for an instant, in the current of life, 



ODD HOURS. 177 

and gaze at the picture as presented, and then consider 
the underlying reality — the comparison of a thing you 
have thought but little about, perhaps, because of its 
universality, will at once amaze you, as you gaze upon 
the false character, false show, false pretenses, false 
words and false system of living that you now realize 
actually exist. And once you realize the conditions of 
life now prevailing, you must needs resolve to do battle 
against the mocking monster that strides through the 
land, instead of encouraging his ravenous destruction by 
u doing as others do." 

It has actually come to such a state that it is unpop- 
ular, not to say unprofitable, to do right on all occasions. 
Persons are even made to blush, who seek to act in life 
as God intends they should, in the presence of what is 
popular and fashionable. 

To pay as you go, and dress accordingly, has become 
absolutely ridiculous. 

To live as becomes your means soon brings the finger 
of showy and empty pride to point you out as an un- 
worthy associate. 

To soil your hands with honest toil very quickly un- 
fits you to mingle in " society ; " for, affectation's laces 
are very sensitive to the brown of nature's callings, and 
starts like a guilty thing, that it is, from the honest touch 
of industry — reality. 

The %orld, basking as it has for many decades of 
time, beneath an overload of blessings and earthly stores, 
is becoming a very Sodom, that needs a carnival of de- 
struction to sweep and purify it, and bring its people 
back to simple reality, and an unassuming mode of life, 



178 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

in principles and appearance, and to a real and not an 
affected worship of the Author of all good. 

Even many of the leaders and teachers of the time 
have become stained with the prevailing plague of affec- 
tation, and if the counselors of the young are to assume 
that fashion must take the place of simplicity, where are 
the generations yet to come, to look, for a guide to the 
true, the dignified and the real virtues of life ? For we 
claim that to practice affectation in a single thing will 
lead to the unreal in all things. We are reminded forc- 
ibly that this affectation is invading many precincts 
which should lie out of reach of its contaminating influ- 
ence, by what a writer in one of our leading magazines 
recently said, after examining certain school reports 
from the Western States. He says : " By the way, we 
do not like the speaking of the salaries of teachers as 
' wages,' which is so common throughout these reports, 
as this in itself alone is sufficient to degrade the office 
in popular estimation to the level of the mechanic or the 
domestic servant." If this be true, " popular estima- 
tion " in the West is very badly informed, and who but 
the school teachers are responsible for the fact? 
" Wages " is used altogether as a word, and it means 
exactly the thing which it is used in the reports to sig- 
nify. The use of " salary " as a more dignified and dig- 
nifying word is an absurd affectation which no sensible 
school teacher should encourage, and the thought im- 
plied in the writer's words, that the man or woman who 
receives wages for honest work, honestly done, is in 
some way degraded by the payment, is one which, if it 
exists in the popular mind, ought to be driven out as 



ODD HOURS. 179 

soon and as thoroughly as possible. It is for correcting 
precisely such notions as this that we pay our public 
school teachers their wages. 



A PRINTERS RE VERY. 




T IS night, now, and here we stand at our 
printer's case, all alone, and in solitude — for it 
is very late, and the town, as well as this vast 
continent, is asleep, and unconscious of the events of 
the stilly night. We use no u copy " by which to be 
guided in our thoughts, but pick up the leaden types 
and form them into words and sentences as dictated by 
the force of a midnight revery of a laboring mortal 
away here on the borders of civilization. It is so still 
that the nibbling of a little mouse, off in one corner of 
the dingy room under the ink-board, sounds like the 
filing of a mill-saw on a frosty morning. We love deep, 
dark solitude sometimes. It seems to allow one to step 
between mortality and immortality, and look back over 
the troubled sea of the one, and ahead upon the en- 
chanting landscape of the other, with the beacon of 
hope standing in relief, indicating the haven of final and 
eternal rest. The night-view from our window is one 
of almost supernatural splendor. All nature is hushed ; 
the earth is draped in her first annual robe of purity, 
which glitters as if set with diamonds 'neath the rays of 
a full bright moon ; the dark pine trees are laden and 



180 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

drooping with snow y and seem like pearly-draped wil- 
lows standing sentinel o'er the sepulchres of the depart- 
ed dead ; the dancing Aurora in the icy north, casting 
a weird light upon the landscape, finishing a scene 
which, added to the still solitude of the hour, creates 
within one's soul an awe, becoming a child of Him who 
is the Author and perfecter of all these profound won- 
ders. The candle burns low in the socket, the embers 
are fast dissolving into ashes, and we are reminded that 
this is but typical of life — first, feeble in our mortal 
weakness, then ablaze with life and fiery ambition, soon 
but a flickering flame, and quickly like the dying em- 
bers of the fire, fall into ashes and are forgotten of 
earth ; we have run our race, fulfilled our mission, and 
passed away. 



WHISKEY FOR A COLD. 



AVING an awfully grievous cold, we went 
down town to find a remedy. It had settled 
in the neighborhood of our bread-basket, and 
was so very bad that we began to fear consumption, 
and resolved to root it out at any cost, and no matter 
what the character of the remedy. Meeting a friend 
on the corner, we asked him did he know what would 
knock a bad cold, and says he, " I do, for a fact ''—he 
had tried it, and knew it to be a dead-shot. He told 
us to go right off— it we could find any place where it 
was sold — and get a pint of whiskey, then, four ounces 




ODD HOURS. 181 

each of black and cayenne pepper, then go home, put 
the pepper into the whiskey, warm the mixture, and 
with our feet to the fire, spend the evening in its ab- 
sorbtion, in the usual way. The idea was somewhat 
revolting to a temperance man — particularly the pepper 
part — but we went right off and got the things and re- 
turned home. We told our good wife to cease fretting 
about our cough, s cause we had it now right by the ap- 
pendix, and showed her- the prescription. She advised 
us to start in kind of gently on that kind of medicine, 
till observations might be made of the effect, and a 
guess arrived at as to the probable result. We felt aw- 
fully bad, and our newspaper would suffer if we got 
sick, and so we absorbed about a gill at the first dose, 
then drew a chair up to the hearth, and asked wife how 
was her health. Pretty soon we commenced talking 
rather cheerfully about " old times," and asked if she 
remembered when we were married ; and if so, if she 
dreamed at that time that ourself was to be a great man, 
and she to be our wife all the same ; and if she thought 
then that it would require at this date four trundle-beds 
to hold the miscellaneous assortment of young tow-heads 
who slammed doors about our domicile at the present 
time. Then we felt so greatly improved in our general 
health, that it was voted we should proceed immediate- 
ly to get our vest around the outside of another gill of 
the pepper, which we did. At about this stage in our 
recovery, some old songs came into our mind, and we 
sang, in a splendid wheel- barrow tone, everything in the 
catalogue, from " Greenland's Icy Monntains " down to 
"We Won't go Home till Morning." When we got 



1 82 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

into some of the star pieces, a large proportion of our 
posterity rolled out, and came tumbling into the room 
to attend the concert and see what was the row with 
their sire. We induced eight or ten of them to mount 
our knees and shoulders, and had a family pyramid. 
After a short season " among the Pyramids," we assured 
the whole family that their immediate ancestor was en- 
tirely cured, or would be in a very short time ; we felt 
the cold that had penetrated our system, steadily cours- 
ing its way out through the pores in a million little frosty 
columns, and to keep up the mildness of our physical 
temperature we drew on the commissary stores again. 
We now happened to think of a little story, or incident 
in our life, that would be almost sure to please the chil- 
dren. It was to the effect that when a boy, another 
boy wagered his black- alder whistle against our barlow- 
knife, that we couldn't stand on our head on one of the 
joists above the cow-stable ; and that we made the at- 
tempt, but turned clear over, and went down into the 
stable, lighting astride of old brindle's back ; how that 
she waltzed about the stall, pawed the floor and bel- 
lowed, finally throwing us off, and nearly kicked the 
daylights out of us before we could scramble through 
one of the little holes that usually appear in the rear end 
of a cow stable. This recital pleased them to an exag- 
gerated degree, and we prescribed again for our cold, 
and cut a pigeon-wing about the room. Abraham 
seemed delighted at the extraordinary antics of his usu- 
ally staid, exacting sire, and asked what kind of medi- 
cine it was that was making us well so fast. He was 
informed that it was a vegetable decoction called, by 



ODD HOURS. 183 

the doctors, " Leonte-donte-terracticum," but common- 
ly called " Opadildoc," or " Bug-juice," upon this occa- 
sion, done in red-pepper. Jonathan, our second hope- 
ful, said that Jo Smith could stand on his head on a 
chair, and he wanted us to try it j of course we would 
do anything to please the children, and up went our 
heels, over went the chair, and down went the stovepipe. 
About this time, wite advised that we go to bed, and 
take a rest; and we did, for we felt a little tired, like. 
Next morning we ascertained that our cold was slightly 
worse, and our head immensely so — strange as it may 



seem. 



A man down in Indiana dropped dead at the polls 
during the recent election. We could not learn which 
ticket he voted ; therefore, we shall say nothing about 
a special visitation ot Divine wrath, until we learn the 
man's politics. 



Were we to strive more, to practic common sense, 
and less, to achieve extraordinary sense, we would be 
considered far more sensible. 



Seconds chase the moment, the moment the hour, 
the hour the day, the day the week, the week the 
month, the month the year, the year the man, until he 
is frightened over the brink of Time— a last leap, and 
that, " a leap into the dark." 



24 



1 84 



UNCLE DUDLEYS 





A GOVERNMENT MULE. 



GOOD deal has been said and written aboul 
;the mule. We have often heard the expression, 
"Tougher'n a government mule," and many 
other similes at the expense of his long-earship. But 
not till a few days ago did we ever have a real good op- 
portunity to get right down to solid and satisfying con- 
templation of this famous animal. There were 210 of 
them, and they were en route to the front to take a kick 
at the hostile Indians on the frontier. They had been 
packed — like sardines in a box — in the cars, for two 
mortal days, and then let out into a mule-pen, to rest 
and refresh themselves preparatory to being again 
packed in the cars to continue their journey to Fort 
Lincoln. We expected that after their enforced absti- 
nence for so long a time from food and water that they 
would scarcely be able to walk when taken from the 
close, stifling cars to the pen ; and we would not have 
been surprised had some of them been found to be dead. 
But no, that isn't the way with a mule, even under such 
painful circumstances. Though thin as wafers from the 
terrible squeeze through which they had gone, they 
came out rearing and tearing, making the cars fairly 



ODD HOURS. 185 

rock with their scrambling to get out, literally clamber- 
ing over one another to get into daylight. Each car 
contained about eighteen, and the carnage that followed 
their egress was nothing short of a terror. The enclos- 
ure was small, and they were pretty well crowded. 
Each one of the 210 seemed to vie with the other in 
the matter of braying, and such an opera as set in would 
put pandemonium clear in the shade. We took a posi- 
tion astride the high board fence, and gazed intently 
down into the forest of ears and heels for three mortal 
hours, studying mule character. As a vocalist, we con- 
sider the mule ahead of everything. Comparing it with 
a chorus by 200 mules, an earthquake — with Vesuvius 
as head singer — sinks into insignificance. When they 
had become hoarse by their vocal efforts, and had ex- 
hausted the programme of the opera under considera- 
tion, they opened the ball, and commenced the regular 
business of a mule wherever he has room to elevate his 
after-deck. Each of them kicked the other, and the 
other kicked each, and they all kicked together. When 
any one exhausted his particular batch of mules to kick 
at, he would go for the fence, or any other object that 
seemed worthy of his heel. After an hour or so of such 
amusement they were again run into the cars through 
a sort of " spout," and when a car would get so full that 
another one could not squeeze in, the " mule whacker " 
would frighten him until he would run his head in among 
the others, when two or three men behind would drive 
him in with clubs, much like driving in a wedge, — 
when that particular car would be pronounced loaded, 
the door closed, and another car moved up to the spout. 




186 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

Verily, nothing can be " tougher than a government 
mule." 



A CHAT WITH A BOY. 

NTERVIEWS with prominent men are com- 
mon — with boys, not so common. We sat, the 
other day, on a plow, at the depot of a western 
village, waiting for the train. It was rather a lonely 
depot, and, in fact, the village itself was a lonely spot. 
A boy straggled along, however, and we captured him 
for company. He took a seat on the other end of the 
plow, and he looked like the thing he was — an inhabit- 
ant of the extreme West ; but we soon discovered that 
between that coon-skin cap and the earth — inside those 
frontier clothes, which presented almost a total wreck 
in the rear — was located a genius — or the making of 
one. We asked him how old he was, and he said he 
didn't know ; we wanted to draw him out, and so asked 
his name, and if he lived far around there ; he said Bill 
Jefferson, and that he did live close away from there. 
We told him that was an honored name, and asked him 
if he knew we had a president, once upon a time, by 
that name, only that it was Tom instead of Bill ; he said 
he know'd him right good; Tom Jefferson was his 
cousin and lived right neighbor to him in Pennsylvania, 
and he (Bill) had " belted " him just the week before he 
came out to Minnesota. We told him that must have 
been another Thomas Jefferson, and asked him if he 



ODD HOURS. 187 

didn't know it was wicked to fight. He asked: 
" Didn't you never fight nobody ? " We said : " No, 
never." Said he: " Well, I'll fight any boy that calls 
me ragged-kneed Bill, at the drop of the hat." We 
told him Pennsylvania was our native state; that in the 
old Keystone State was where we first saw the light, 
grew from infancy to boyhood, from boyhood to man- 
hood ; among its craggy mountains and nestling valleys 
was where our education was received; its rippling 
brooks and crystal springs were yet very dear to our 
heart, and that during our leisure hours our heart filled 
with mingled joy and sadness when we reflected upon 
the scenes of our younger days ; and ended the sentence 
by singing the first verse of " There's no Place like 
Home." The boy had gotten straddle of one of the 
plow handles by this time, and his mouth was in the 
proper position for the reception of a huge potato, and 
said he : " Look here, old man, do you git them spells 
very of en ? " We begged his pardon, and assured him 
that it was the remembrance of the old Keystone State 
that had brought it on. He asked us what a keystone 
was, and we told him it was a stone that was neither 
oblong nor square, but that, as we had just used it, the 
term was only a typical one, and had an allusion to 
Pennsylvania — his and our native State. He said he 
" hadn't never seen no stones there only the common 
sorts and some grindstones." We said "Yes," and 
asked him how he liked Minnesota. He said he liked 
it right good, 'cause he could ketch jest slathers of rats 
here — muskrats. He was going to work away till he 
got enough rats to buy a railroad. We suggested that 



1 88 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

he must mean some railroad bonds, and then " hold the 
bonds." But he replied, " Hold nothing," and knew 
just what he meant without any of our help. He said 
he wanted to be a brakeman, and if he could buy a 
railroad of his own, he'd be a brakeman all he wanted 
to. Just then the train whistled, and we bade him 
adieu, and told him to be a good boy, and then he 
would grow up a ditto man. As we stepped aboard 
the train we heard him remark, that he didn't care a 
durn about our ditto, nor our keystones, neither — it was 
rats and railroads he was after. 



" I will drink vinegar ; I will drink rancid milk, 
or foul water j I will drink what of the contents of the 
filthiest cess-pool it is possible to drink, and call it good. 
But, I will never again drink any intoxicating liquid, 
though it be the most delicate " elixir," sparkling with 
the most brilliant ** beads," served in a diamond glass, 
and reflecting in its bowl the tiniest rainbows from the 
mellow light of the stained windows of a palace, to 
tempt my lips. This is what we heard a man say, a 
day or two since. He was " swearing off." The fol- 
lowing day, however, he was just as drunk as though 
nothing had happened. 



ODD HOURS. 



189 





HOLDING A CIGAR. 

OW harrowing it is to one's feelings to see a 
new smoker hold a cigar — or try to hold one. 
He will get it in the center of his mouth, poke 
out his lips, as though he were going to seed ; first shut 
one eye to keep the smoke out, and then the other; 
and finally he has to take it out and lay it down on the 
sidewalk while he wipes the water from his eyes with 
the sleeve of his coat. Sight recovered, he picks up the 
cigar and, after getting it carefully balanced right end 
too, he sticks it into the east corned of his mouth and 
runs it out past his left ear, so as to get rid of the smoke. 
Of course, he has not gotten the " slight " yet of doing 
it that way, and when he steps off* the end of the side- 
walk the cigar jostles out of his mouth and falls into the 
mud — and is gone. He looks at it with smarting eyes, 
gives it a kick and passes along in disgust. Now, if 
boys, or young men, who are bent on " victory or 
death " in this matter, would practice on a clothes-pin 
for a few weeks, the art would be accomplished without 
a struggle, or a pain, or a watery eye. Just carry a 
clothes-pin in your pocket, and at every opportunity, 
when no one is looking, wear it in your mouth, and in 



i 9 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

a remarkably short time you'll have the knack to a 
dot. 




A TEST OF PATIENCE. 



,HE snow has been "too thin," for real good 
hauling this week, though our wood-haulers 
have tried to make the most of it. A green- oak 
granger got stuck in the street Tuesday, and his patience 
was put to the severest test; he was a very nervous 
man, and he had a very bad tongue in his sled, and a 
pair of mules that evidently considered that they had 
just naturally pulled that cord of green oak around 
as much as was necessary. The mules stopped on a 
rather bare spot, and looked around at the driver ; the 
driver said " Git," but neither of them " got; " he tick- 
led their after deck with his brad, but they simply 
passed him up one which very nearly struck his shin ; 
then he stepped down and off, and tickled them a little, 
at arm's length, with the brad, between decks; one 
jumped forward and the other stood on his head in or- 
der to get his heels high-up as possible, and then the 
tongue pulled out of the roller; thereupon he said 
" Whoa ! " and made one or two other remarks that the 
occasion probably warranted, though they seemed some- 
what foreign to the subject in hand. He got a rope 
and secured the tongue to the roller ; then he put his 
brad where it was thought it would do the most good ; 
and the crowd, which gathered about, thought every- 



ODD HOURS. 191 

thing would soon come right. The mules tightened up 
on the traces and the front end of the tongue came out 
of the neckyoke, and the other end of the tongue pulled 
out of the rope. Then the captain of the craft walked 
clear round the load, and examined the mules, to see if 
anything else had pulled out. The boys standing around 
offered a multitude of " suggestions," all of which con- 
spired to make our granger friend more than ordinarily 
nervous ; he took the tongue and put it up on the load, 
thinking probably it might make wood ; then he walked 
around the mules and said " Whoa ! " again, which 
seemed to correspond with their idea of the matter ex- 
actly ; then he hitched the doubletree to the roller by 
means of the rope, and when everything was right he 
told them to whoa ! which they continued to do. He 
geed them off sort of obliquely, so that the whole craft 
might not be thrown upon its beam- ends, when the 
draft commenced, and then he put in a few with his 
brad ; the mules took a tack to the southwest, the rope 
came untied and one of the mules kicked up; the 
granger repeated a few stanzas, and induced the mules 
to stand up by the sidewalk and whoa, while he went 
and borrowed a team of horses that didn't know as 
much about that load of green oak as the mules ap- 
peared to, and the sled disappeared around the corner. 



*5 



x 9 2 UNCLE DUDLEYS 




BEING A FAMILY MAN 




BE a family man of good repute, unexcep- 
tionable character and good square application, 
is an accomplishment rarely met with. Fast 
men, ladies' men, and men-out-o'-mghts, are numerous ; 
but a family man is about as seldom as a chicken's 
tooth. The labors and attentions expected from a gen- 
uine family man might be compared to the sands of the 
sea shore, or musquitoes of a warm night in July. He 
must be bright, apt, capable, loyal to nothing save the 
hearthstone of his ranch, and must, withal, be a keen 
observer and a good judge of human nature — particu- 
larly of the member of the human family with whom he 
keeps house. He should observe the nature and dispo- 
sition of his wife most studiously for the first five years, 
by which time he will know just what's the matter ev- 
ery time he sees her coming for him — if he learns easily, 
he will also, by this time, be expert in the principal 
items that go to make up one of those enviable crea- 
tures, a family man. He can sling an early breakfast 
together with elegance and dispatch, iron a shirt, darn 
a stocking, twist the head off a chicken for dinner, milk 
the cow, take every young-one in the house across his 



ODD HOURS. 193 

knee and polish them off respectively, and do many 
other needful things about the house and get off to his 
work "an hour by sun," every morning; this is only 
ordinary ; there are men who can also bake bread, scrub, 
make the beds, saw a cord of wood, tie up the dog, go 
to market and churn, before breakfast; but we never 
could get quite up to that stratum of excellence as a 
family man ; having rather a delicate constitution our 
better half always restrained our laudable ambition for 
fear we might become prematurely racked. If a person 
hopes for rapid advancement in becoming a family man, 
he must imitate, to all appearances at least, the noble 
example ef Joseph, and he will find the atmosphere of 
the kitchen not nearly so sultry as it would otherwise 
be, and his promotion and general comfort will be aug- 
mented in a wonderful degree. An estimable family- 
man is never out late, unaccompanied by his family, but 
" goes to bed with the chickens," and gets up as much 
earlier than the chickens as possible, especially in cold 
weather, when things need thawing out. The study of 
how to make good hash should be given much atten- 
tion, until the mysteries of this article of diet are fath- 
omed ; for good hash for breakfast is a wonderful " elix- 
ir " toward starting the home circle for the day. 



&g£m>m& 



i 9 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 




GATHERING WILD CATS. 




winter it was the wolves that annoyed our 
good people who lived in the suburbs of the 
city, and along the bluff and ravine ranges in 
rear of the town — up and down the valley. We made 
a raid upon the wolves, however, and abated the nuis- 
ance. This winter, a streak of wild-cats seemed to be 
on. A few days ago we felt it a duty we owed to pos- 
terity, to change the wild-cat condition of things; and 
so, we hired a cheap boy — a regular baked-mud speci- 
men of street urchin, who had long since become a 
stranger to fear, and to soap, — and started for the hills. 
We always have use for just such a boy when we go out 
to gather wild-cats. We promised him that if he would 
go along and carry the cats, and do all that we required 
of him on the trip, and would skin the cats and dry the 
hides after we got home, he would be entitled to a one- 
third interest in the peltry. 

We reached a rocky ridge early, and just about the 
time the vermin had gotten comfortably settled in their 
holes after their night's raid on the hen-roosts of the 
neighborhood. It was not long before we found a hole 
in the rocks accompanied by what we considered infal- 



ODD HOURS. 195 

lible signs of the presence of cats, and we at once pre- 
pared to clear that hole of its occupant or occupants as 
the number of cats therein might indicate, and told the 
boy to button up his coat and prepare to go in on a lit- 
tle tour of inspection whilst we would remain outside 
and just above the hole, and "polish them off" when 
they came out, with our long-handled tomahawk. 

That boy, although he was probably dead to fear, 
seemed to retain a slight smattering of good judgment, 
though his appearance didn't seem to indicate that he 
possessed the slightest discrimination between a proper 
and an improper proposition. 

He looked into the hole, turned and looked at the 
"signs," and then at us, and said : "See here, boss, 
what do you take me fur, anyway ? " We told him we 
took him " tur " to go into holes to drive out the ani- 
mals ; that if we had taken him along just for an orna- 
ment, we wouldn't have agreed to pay him such an im- 
mense margin of profits ; that a one-third interest in the 
net proceeds of a wild-cat hunt, when we let ourself 
loose, was not to be sneezed at. He looked down into 
the hole again, and then asked about how much his 
share would amount to ; and we informed him that it 
depended altogether upon how he panned out as a 
" driver "—that if he drove enough cats under our 
weapon, there wasn't any telling how many hundred 
dollars it would figure up. Then he wanted to know 
the best way to drive them out; and we told him to go 
in feet foremost and allow the cats to " shut dcwn " on 
his pant-legs, or on his coat-tail, and then to come out 
with his game — let them drive him out ; if they didn't 



196 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

bite, then he was to drive them out. He said he would 
go into that one hole, just to show us he wasn't afraid 
of wild-cats, but if he didn't bring out a hundred dollars' 
worth of cats the first pass, he would quit and go home 
— 'cause it was worth that much to go into a hole where 
" signs " wuz so fresh. 

Pulling his old hat over his ears and drawing his head 
down inside his coat-collar, he backed down into the 
hole, and soon was out of sight, whilst we squared our- 
self just one side of the mouth, with tomahawk raised 
and muscle swollen up like a hickory-nut. 

" How goes it, Si? " we yelled down the hole. 

" I'm a gittin' 'im ! " he yelled back, " He's snappin' 
at me now, an' — an' oh, lordy — look out, I'm a comin' 
— he, whoop ! — wah ! — phew— ew — here we come, dod- 
rot us ! " 

Just at that Si came rolling and tumbling up out of 
the hole, and, sticking tightly to the broadest part of his 
dilapidated breeches was the cat ; we went for him with 
our tomahawk at the first glimpse we caught of him, 
and then — oh, shades of the stately cedar ! The cat 
commenced to defend his position, after the true fashion 
of his race, and quickly did we receive his copious and 
unerring shafts. Great guns and little fishes ! Betore 
we could reach a place of safety, or a place where we 
could lie down and roll in the mud and hate ourself to 
death, we had become a walking pest-house. Si had 
brought out the wrong kind of a cat. Si had rolled 
clear to the foot of the hill, whilst we turned a somer- 
sault over a precipice fifteen feet high, and struck in a 
friendly mud-hole — but even that beat a skunk-hole all 



ODD HOURS. 197 

to death. We put ourself to soak over night in a solu- 
tion of weak lye and ammonia, and the next day made 
out to appear as usual, but every body wanted to know 
why we looked so " bleached out." Poor Si, we haven't 
seen him since ; but we feel sure he is satisfied without 
calling on us for a further share of the dividends of our 
wild-cat hunt. 



The dog in the manger, that would neither eat the 
hay himself nor let the ox eat it, has been denounced 
for ages as the worst example of selfishness that ever 
came to light in the history of the world. The wisest 
men have given the subject much thought, and have all 
arrived at the same conclusion : That the dog had no 
reason under the sun for such conduct, only pure, 
downright meanness. It never occurred to them that, 
as a good bed is next to a good meal, the poor dog 
wanted the little bunch ot hay for a bed, and had as 
good a right to it as the ox; hence, the ox was the 
meaner of the two in seeking to rob the dog of his bed. 
So old JEso\> had better take in his sail, while we tally 
one for the dog. 




igS 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





A CANINE DISCUSSION 



DAY or two ago there was some fun on Supe- 
Irior street. Fun for everybody except the two 
dogs engaged in the "discussion." The mud 
was thin, and was about six inches deep, on the aver- 
age. One dog was somewhat smaller than the other, 
but he was a thorough-bred " bull," which made up for 
his deficiency in size. He was mostly the " under-dog," 
but he got in his work all the same ; he was a great dog 
to attend closely to business, and he seemed to glory in 
being industrious. He just shut down on the cheek of 
the big dog, and while the big dog was mopping up the 
mud with him, he held the fort regardless of the condi- 
tion of things. After they had " fit " half an hour or so, 
and they both assumed the appearance of two great 
mud cakes, the friends of the respective contestants 
thought they would wade out and quell the disturbance. 
They each got hold of the after end of their several dog, 
and braced themselves for a pull. Their hold slipped, 
however, and they both sat clown in the mud. This 
made them somewhat vexed,/ and they finally came to 
the surface and promised each other that they'd pull 
them dogs apart, if it took all winter. So, they ad- 



ODD HOURS. i 99 

vanced again toward the surging mud-pile, inside of 
which were the dogs, and each got hold of what they 
presumed to be the tale-end of their respective dog, and 
hove away with an energy that did them great credit. 
After slipping their hold several times, they found that 
they were pulling at the same dog — one had hold of a 

leg and the other the tail of the same quadruped. 

When this was discovered, they both slipped up and 
sat down again in the mud. Then they excavated 
around until they were sure they had hold of each of 
their respective dog, respectively, when they sawed them 
around a hitching-post until it was about half sawed off. 
At about this juncture in the war, the dogs thought they 
would just let go until they could get a fresh hold ; this 
proved fatal, however, to the progress of the fight, as 
it did to the further comfort of the pullers ; for, they 
both went headlong into the mud, each taking his dog 
with him. After rolling over a time or two, they as- 
sumed an upright position, and, dripping with thinness, 
they started off, each with his dog on his shoulder, and 
the half hour's entertainment was over, although the 
two men were interested the remainder of the afternoon 
in trying to find themselves. The smaller dog, howev- 
er, is on deck again, and is peeking around all the cor- 
ners usually frequented by the enemy. But, the owners 
declare in terms that cannot be misunderstood, that if 
they quarrel again, in the mud, they may everlastingly 
skin each other, before they will interefere. 



26 



2oo UNCLE DUDLEYS 




GOING FOR THE "BULL'S EYE: 1 




RCHERY may be considered as fairly ripe in 
.this city at present, and the harvest of bull's-eyes 
has begun. When a stripling, we spent a num- 
ber of years among the frisky Sioux Indians on the Min- 
nesota border, and used to sit by the month (or less) in 
the villages and watch the Indians shoot at five-cent 
pieces, at a distance of from twenty to a hundred yards. 
They would put a five-cent silver piece of their " hard- 
earned annuity money " into the end of a tiny split- 
stick, and an Indian who had attained the age of five 
years who would miss it more than once in three, was 
considered a very unpromising American. We never 
would unbend our dignity enough to engage, ourself, in 
such tom-foolery, but still we knew just how it was done, 
to a tetotal dingtum, in every pose and posture. Hence, 
for the past year we have been chuckling in our shirt- 
sleeve, thinking how we should stalk into the archery 
clubs, when they got well under way, and get away 
with any dozen of the best of them, all put together. 
In other words we should knock a five-cent center at 
any distance, even so far off that it would have to be il- 
luminated in order to show its locality. When we first 



ODD HOURS. 20 1 

saw the targets they were to use — about the size of a 
large wash-tub, all circled off with stripes three inches 
wide — and to be shot at forty yards away, we just had 
to go off to some secluded spot and laugh till well nigh 
into the night — in fact we never did get through laugh- 
ing about it — that is, hardly ever. 

We resolved to watch our chance, and soon we found 
what we were looking after. We discovered a lady or 
two, etc., with whom we were on speaking terms, exer- 
cising on a back lawn, and so we leaked through a crack 
in the fence and went over to where the carnage was 
abounding, and asked could we take a shot or two. 
The ladies — bless them — were sincerely delighted, and 
we picked out a bow of streaked snake- wood, or some- 
thing, and threw our symetrical form into a position 
which was a sort of compromise between William Tell 
and a first class Indian. Of course the great target was 
uncomfortably close, and we felt sure of our ability to 
lay hands onto the tail of a two-year-old steer and throw 
him by said narrative and hit such a bull's eye at that 
distance. Still, being modest, we did nothing of the 
kind, but thought we would toy with the mark a little, 
and get them sort of used to our bow-ideal ere we had 
the great thing moved half a mile away. The ladies 
exclaimed, " My, what grace," and we let 'er went — 
that is, let fly the unerring dart, which would have ut- 
terly demolished the aforesaid " eye " had it struck it, 
but it didn't. It went about forty feet to the left, and 
three rods above the section of daylight occupied by 
the target. We apologized by assuring the ladies that 
our foot had slipped just at the fatal instant when it 



2o2 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

oughtn't to have done so; they said "yes," and so we 
planted ourself firmly, yanked our left shoulder well aft 
and got a magnificent poise to withstand the concus- 
sion, and without any further apologetic discussion — 
except an inward dis-cussing — let the thing go again 
straight for the center. This time, it went a little too 
far to the right — too far by about three rods, — went 
through the lower crack in the fence, through a dog, 
and then shied across into the street to the right and 
came nearly killing a cow. This time, we assured the 
ladies it had gone off at half-cock, and of course could 
not help being an imperfect shot. One more shot, how- 
ever, succeeded in thoroughly alarming that whole 
neighborhood. The people all around that part of 
town, who had been observing our agility, began closing 
the blinds, calling in the children and shutting the doors ; 
some of the more timid families went down cellar and 
remained till the shower was over. We never learned 
just where the third arrow did go ; but feel, somehow, 
as though it went up among the little stars to sail around 
the moon, and it will doubtless appear in due time as a 
celebrated comet. We told the ladies we had a touch 
of the cholera-infantum that day, and weren't very well 
ourself; hence, it was not our day for archery, as might 
reasonably be inferred, and with a a magnificent awk- 
wardness we excused ourself, slid through the same 
crack in the fence, and went to business fully resolved 
never to do anything again until we learned how it 
was done — never to laugh at other folks until we learn- 
ed, somewhere near, what it was we were laughing at. 



ODD HOURS. 



203 





PRIMER LESSON. 



,HIS is little Dan and his small sister. His sis- 
ter's name is Jane. Dan and Jane are down on 
the lake-shore. There is a north-easter on, now, 
and the sea on the lake is ver-y rough. See the ship 
out on the lake. Dan is ask-in g Jane what she thinks 
the wild waves are say-ing. Jane gives it up, and so 
does Dan. Dan is a good boy. He is not proud, and 
does not say bad words, when Jane is near. He knows 
that Jane would tell his Ma, if he swore. Dan has on 
a wide hat. It is his Pa's hat, I think. The day is 
warm, so, he has left his coat at home. He should 
have worn his coat, (if it is a long coat,) as he might 
take cold. Jane has her bon-net on. It keeps the 
bright sun-light out of her face. Jane will not get freck- 
led when she wears her bon-net. Jane is a good lit-tle 
girl, and loves Dan. They will soon gath-er Dan's hat 
full of ag-ates, and then go home, when Dan will go 
down town and play " keeps *' with the boys. 



204 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 




FLGHTING A GARDEN RAKE. 




HEN a boy, it used to be our delight to boast 
>of being able to tramp out a little bigger yel- 
low-jacket's nest than any other boy in the 
school-district. A bumble-bee's nest was only an ordi- 
nary affair, and was used simply as an initiatory step in 
working up to the neplus ultra of genuine pluck; and, 
when a boy could get right into a mother-colony of 
able bodied yellow-jackets, with his bare feet, and tramp 
the life out of the last jacket that belonged to the settle- 
ment, he became entitled to his diploma — which was a 
"pressed" hornet on an oak-leaf. But, we wander. 
What made us think of these feats of our boyhood, in 
our bare teet, was seeing a barefoot boy, not long since, 
trying to " tramp out " a garden-rake; or, rather, he was 
trying not to tramp it out. His paternal parent sent him 
out into the wood-house to get an armful of wood that 
he had neglected to bring in before dark. The boy — 
whom we shall call John, because his name was some- 
thing else, — went for the wood ; but, if it had been light 
enough to see the shape of his mouth and the general 
expression of his frontspiece, even the most casual ob- 
server would have noticed that John was somewhat up 



ODD HOURS. 205 

on his ear at having to go into a dark woodhouse to get 
something that he ought to have gathered in previous to 
the deep twilight that then existed. In fact he was 
mad, and stepped rather recklessly as he stumbled along 
in the direction of the woodshed. Boys have been 
known to do something like that before, both in ancient 
and modern times. Saul of Tarsus, for instance, when 
a boy, kicked a chained lion in the mouth because his 
mother asked him to run down to the meat-market and 
get twenty-five cents' worth of smoked sausage for break- 
fast. The lion came out first-best, however, and that is 
the history of most such bad actions on the part of 
boys, when they have to do something m response to 
orders from headquarters, that they don't like to do very 
well. John went bumping along, just aching to kick 
something, or to step on a toad and mash it, for very 
spite. He stamped his feet heavily upon the ground, 
and when in the very height of his anger he found a 
garden-rake that had been left in the path, lying on its 
back, teeth uppermost. He changed the bent of his 
mind very suddenly, the instant he discovered that he 
had found something to tramp on and mash. All of a 
sudden, he wasn't so mad at having to bring in a little 
wood as he was previous to the time when he stepped 
on the rake. In fact, he felt just as though he would 
rather carry in wood than not. When he stepped on 
the sharp teeth with one loot, he made a leap upward 
and then came down with the other foot in the same 
place. This tipped the rake up and the handle pretty 
nearly knocked his left ear off, and it fell back in its 
original position. Then John, in his agony, sat violent- 



206 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

ly down in the same spot, which induced the rake- han- 
dle to again come for his head, taking him gently across 
the bridge of his nose ; he sprang up with a yell of pain y 
when the rake detached itself from his seat of empire, 
and in some unaccountable manner raked him down 
the back of his neck and fastened itself into his yarn 
suspenders, and there held fast until John landed in the 
midst ot the frightened family, in the sitting room, the 
worst chopped-up boy that could have been found in a 
day's walk. In about ten days afterward, John was 
able to sit on a soft chair, and tell the folks about how 
many rake-teeth he thought he could accommodate and 
still live. 



RIDICULOUS SUICIDING. 



UICIDES are becoming of daily occurrence. 
Some days there are a dozen of them, and the 
fact is, the thing is getting monotonous. We 
don't object, particularly, to this, because we have a 
big stock of people on hand, in the world, and the sui- 
ciders don't interfere with the business, by shuffling 
themselves off, to any perceptible extent — the profits 
tail up at the end of the year just about the same. It 
is the way in which they go about it, respectively, that 
disgusts us. There isn't one in twenty who approaches 
a genteel, neat style of going to glory. One will slip 
out to the barn, take an old halter-strap, tie it to a beam, 
put his head through the place where the horse's nose 




ODD HOURS. 207 

belongs, stand up on an inverted half-bushel measure, 
kick it away when he gets ready, and is found afterward 
looking about as picturesque as a last year's scare-crow 
after a hard winter. Another will saw his head pretty 
nearly off with a dull razor, and after living long enough 
to wish he hadn't made such an unsightly mess of it, 
climbs the golden stair. Some will jump into an old 
well, and smother themselves with dirty water and Hz- 
zards, and after their friends spend a great deal of valu- 
able time in hunting the country all over for ten miles 
in every direction, discover their late lamented friend in 
the old well, besmeared with mud, so that it takes half 
a day's hard work to put him into presentable shape for 
a respectable funeral. Another will put his mouth down 
over the muzzle of a heavily charged gun in the parlor, 
and utterly ruin a seventy-five dollar carpet and knock 
a lot of plastering off the ceiling. Some jump into the 
river, and become a great " what-is-it ,r to the catfish. 
And so we might go on, enumerating the various styles 
of doing it, all of which would be the most unromantic 
ways imaginable. Of course, if we felt bent upon self- 
destruction, ourself, we should much prefer to be pet- 
ted to death, if we could afford to hire some proper per- 
son to do it. But still there are many other ways that 
might be adopted, which would neutralize the prevail- 
ing monotony. Even if a person felt it his duty to go 
out on the rope-walk, he owes it to himself and the pub- 
lic, to take a little more pains, and have a little more 
style about him. He should dress up in his best clothes, 
get a very nice new rope, decorate it with a blue ribbon, 
wear a mashing button-hole boquet, and then pendul- 

27 



208 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

umize himself from the stair-bannister in the front hall. 
There are various things that might be suggested, that 
would greatly improve the present style and make the 
custom more popular, no matter by which route the 
suicide might want to travel ; but we simply give the 
above suggestions as a sample of how either of the many 
ways might be bettered, and how they might after their 
departure, instead of " presenting a ghastly sight," leave 
themselves looking "just too nice for anything." 



We knew it would come out! We were always 
told that the ancients believed that the world was flat, 
like a cold pancake. That one could walk to the edge 
and look down into nothing, and up, into the same ar- 
ticle. That if a fellow wanted to commit suicide, all he 
had to do was to walk out to the edge, grapple himself 
by the slack of his ulster and pitch himself over the 
crag, and die falling, keep on falling through all eterni- 
ty. Also, that this pancake of a world was toted 
around " from one town to another " on the back of a 
turtle. It never was stated in any book we ever saw, 
what the ancients thought the turtle stood on, but it is 
supposed they concluded that that was the turtle's busi- 
ness. It now transpires, however, that the earliest races 
of men of whom we have any authentic account, knew 
mighty well that the world was round, and not flat; 
they knew it better than the generations who followed 
later — subsequent generations evidently forgot it ; hence, 
we later chaps have found it out by accident, thought 
ourselves alfired smart, and imagined we had struck a 




ODD HOURS. 209 

discovery. But, it turns out now, that we have only 
been working an old claim, that was abandoned by a 
generation of old rabbi several thousand years ago. We 
are mighty smart people no w-a-days, but there's a whole 
spelling-book full of new things that we haven't caught 
on to yet. 



TORN DIGNITY. 



,HERE is scarcely anything more harrowing to 
a sympathetic nature than to see an elderly gen- 
tleman, who is as chock-full of cold dignity as 
an oyster is of sea- weed, "taken down" — sort of 
knocked out of time, as it were. We have one fault 
that we have noticed, even ourself ; and that is, we are 
almost foolishly sympathetic. While riding on the cars 
not long ago, we noticed a well-dressed old gentleman, 
with a very respectable sized rink on his head and a 
pair of gold-bound specs surmounting a most exacting 
nose, who sat nearly opposite the seat we occupied. 
His face alone would prove to the most ordinary judge 
of human nature that he could prove an alibi, if a smile 
were ever to be perpetrated in his region. He would 
freeze Charles Francis Adams to death in a harvest- 
field, and probably never committed a charitable act in 
his life. The dignity of his pose and motions could 
have been cut into chunks and sold for frescoing cathe- 
dral windows. After awhile the train arrived at the sta- 
tion where he, evidently, desired to leave the train. The 



210 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

brakeman opened the door and bawled out, in four dif- 
ferent keys, the name of the station, when our frigid 
friend grabbed his " grip " and stood up, adjusting his 
vest and collar, and depositing his specs in his watch- 
pocket, as he moved out into the aisle and waited for 
the train to stop. For some reason, the engineer seemed 
to yank the throttle of his air-brakes wide open at that 
station, and the stopping of the train was almost a shock 
to even those who were sitting. Our dignified friend 
suddenly found himself cutting a multitude of vulgar 
monkey-shines, which were very aggravating to a gen- 
tleman of his fabric, and we could not help, (despite the 
fact that we love fun,) but feel deeply for him. He lost 
his balance entirely, and in trying to find it again he 
cut all sorts of pigeon-wings. He first struck out with 
his left foot, but instantly found that he ought to have 
first shoved out the right leg. His grip flew up and 
knocked off the side lamp, and he sat down astride the 
arm of one of the seats. He made a lunge for liberty 
and a becoming posture, and went full length over to a 
seat occupied by a fashionably dressed lady and literally 
mashed a whole millinery store, while his high hat went 
galloping down the aisle in the direction of the last sta- 
tion passed. He fairly groaned with shame, and we 
fairly moaned with sympathy for the old chap. As 
soon as the lady yelled " git eout ! " he caromed over 
into our seat, when we gobbled onto him till he could 
get his legs under instead of over him, and by that time 
the shock had subsided ; we went and got him his hat, 
gathered up his grip-sack for him, and balanced him 
along to the door. The old gent, as he struck the de- 




ODD HOURS. 2n 

pot-platform, tried to say, " thank you," but failed, and 
instantly struck his wonted gait as he marched off as 
stiff and upright as though he had eaten a dinner of 
telegraph poles. Even under the most trying emergen- 
cy this fine old gentleman did not lose his dig., though 
we really felt sorry for him. 



ZOS" DIET. 



E HAVE often thought it a wonder that hu- 
.manity were not visited by condign punish- 
ment for the great and prevalent sin of glut- 
tony — of making " a god of their belly," or, more mod- 
ernly speaking, their stomachs. People in these days 
not only eat too much, by an immense majority, but are 
too particular what they eat. It is getting so that it 
takes nearly as many people to prepare a table, as are 
required to eat what is prepared — in some instances, 
even more. There are thousands of tables spread every 
day in this country, upon which there are so many kinds 
of victuals that the feasters do not pretend to get half 
way round, just lor lack of capacity to hold even a tid- 
bit ot each article — grease their stomachs, or stand up, 
as they may. Yet, all these dishes must be regularly 
prepared, for appearance' sake, and the overtaxed 
stomach does its best to reach them, and failing in this, 
looks longingly after the rest, and wishes them well — 
wishes it could furnish storage for all before it. Enough 
is absolutely wasted each day to feed every hungry 



2i2 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

creature in the land, with a lot of cannibals and Ute 
Indians thrown in. Speaking about Ute Indians, re- 
minds us that they are free from the sin of being particu- 
lar what they eat, even if they do sometimes, probably, 
eat a little too much. But for this latter failing we can- 
not be severe on them, because they labor altogether in 
the open air, and the character of their work — scalping 
folks, stealing horses, murdering women and children, 
etc., — is very arduous, and conducive of a hearty ap- 
petite. Any sins of commission in this respect, howev- 
er, are more than counteracted by the simplicity of their 
diet, and the utter disregard in which they hold fancy 
nixnax, or their equally admirable carelessness of how 
the simple articles they have, are prepared. Whatever 
mild faults the Ute may possess, fastidiousness is not 
one of them. The testimony of Miss Meeker — who 
was a captive among them — again substantiates the as- 
sertions of thousands of others who have had opportu- 
nities to note the simplicity of the daily "chuck" con- 
sumed by the noble red man, as also his little concern 
as to how it is prepared and dished up. For instance, 
Miss Meeker assures us that the Ute Indians live prin- 
cipally on bread and meat. Now, this is simple as well 
as healthful, and speaks volumes in praise of their char- 
acter, as a frugal, contented people. Then she says 
that when they can't get bread, they eat meat; and 
when there is no meat in plain sight anywhere, they eat 
bread. Note what a picture of contentment this is — it 
is a subject that would make an artist's mouth water. 
She neglects to state what they do when they can get 
neither meat nor bread, but we presume they must eat 






ODD HOURS. 213 

a small ration of dried apples, and " swell up." This is 
another pretty subject for the brush. When they have 
a large quantity of " grub " on hand, they just sit around 
and eat until the last " tat " is consumed, before worry- 
ing themselves about " where the next meal is coming 
from," as we poor grasping, wicked pale-faces do. 
They think not of the morrow — they let each day pro- 
vide for itself. They sew not, neither do they spin, to 
amount to anything. They never steal anything they 
cannot reach, nor take a scalp unless one presents itself. 
When they have only a limited amount of provisions on 
hand, they do the same as when they have plenty — eat 
it up in perfect contentment, and never talk back. 
They are not proud, and are magnificently reckless as 
to the condition of their person or clothing — in the 
Greek tongue, they are dirty; which, translated into 
Hebrew, means excessively filthy. Their meat is per- 
mitted to lie about on the ground, as they fritter away 
none of their substance on cupboards, ice-boxes or cel- 
lars. Each family is provided with a dog — all the way 
from eight to fifteen of them. These dogs are kept to 
" make night hideous," and to lick the gum-biles on the 
Indians' heels ; they help themselves to the meat, when 
there is any, just the same as the Indians. After the 
dogs have satisfied themselves, Miss Meeker tells us, the 
Indians cut off from the same piece on which the dogs 
feed. There is nothing small about this, and nothing 
fastidious, that we can discover. They generally boil 
their meat, and commence eating it as soon as it is 
warm. They use the same water, over and over again, 
in which to cook their dog-bait, until the same is thick 



2i 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

enough to stand alone — Miss M. says until it becomes 
** a perfect slime of filth." Ot course, right here we 
deem the Utes a little off; we can see nothing that 
would be inconsistent with simplicity, nor anything that 
would be particularly wicked, if they would occasional- 
ly change the water, and even once in a while scour out 
the kettle with soap and sand. Still, this is purely a 
matter of taste, and would entail a few minutes' labor 
every day — and the people whose religion will not per- 
mit them to " spin," cannot be expected to scour out a 
kettle nor change the water on their dog-meat ; they 
eat out of the vessel, and then the dog licks out the 
leavings. Miss Meeker says they are generally clothed 
in the skins of animals. Now this is primitive and good. 
She continues : " They take a skin and cut a hole in 
it and throw it over their heads, cutting arm-holes and 
fastening the garment at the waist with a wide belt, 
while they close up the neck with a buckskin string. 
When the garment wears out, they cut the string and 
let it drop, but not before. Sometimes the Indians will 
wear as many as five of these garments at a time, always 
keeping the cleanest one on the outside." Now, these 
are the main differences between the Indian and the 
white race. Is it to be wondered at that the red man is 
" the noble red man," and that the white man is fre- 
quently punished for his stomach's sake, by the demon 
of dyspepsia or the gout ? The one is the simple life 
of a perfect contentment ; the other is a wicked, waste- 
ful life, where discontented, greedy man is constantly 
struggling to bite off more than he can chew, and is 
always found chewing at more than he can bite off. 



ODD HOURS. 21 




PUTTING DOWN A CARPET. 




T IS one of the neatest, not to say most inter- 
esting jobs that is contained in the spring cata- 
logue. When the lady ot the house intimates 
that a thirty-yard carpet must be taken up, pounded, 
and then put d©wn again, all in the same day, the man 
of the houfe# has been struck with one of the greatest 
calamities of his life. He doesn't realize it, however, 
provided he has never had a tilt with that kind of a job, 
and starts in as though it were the merest trifle. He 
just peels his spring ulster, and rips that carpet up 
around the edges, sending the tacks in a shower against 
the opposite walls, sings " Hold the Fort," and wishes 
somebody would give him some hard job. Then he 
yanks the thing out into the yard, and after a deal of 
" spraddling around " gets it on the line. Then he digs 
the sand out of his eyes, scoops the gravel and dust out 
of his ears, wipes the first flow of dampness off his fore- 
head with his white sleeve — which isn't white any more 
— and he unconsciously switches his singer off from 
" Hold the Fort" to " Life is a Weary Way." He be- 
gins to suspect that a thirty-yard carpet is about as big 
a fort as one man can garrison. For the next hour or 
28 



216 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

two, as he pounds the dust and gravel out of the goods, 
he can be seen but faintly, as he moves around in a 
cloud which fills that whole neighborhood. Being full 
of sand, he mauls the establishment until it is clear of 
dirt, and he is a walking mud-man ; the little rivers run 
down his face, making his whole countenance look like 
a miniature map of Sahara — supposing Sahara to be 
blest with rivers. His real grief hasn't begun yet, though. 
He gets somebody to shovel part of the dirt out from 
between his collar and his neck, behind, and then drags 
the carpet back into the room and gets it sort of squared 
down again. He has a dinner-plate full of tacks, grabs 
the hammer and, on all-fours, gets the thing secured 
along one side — his left thumb is pretty well struck by 
this time, and he sits down to breathe a little, with one 
hand on the small of his back and the other thumb in 
his mouth. He succeeds in securing another side of the 
fabric along the south side of the room, and now the 
stretching era has been reached. He knows it must be 
pulled till there isn't a kink to be seen. After putting 
himself into fifty different agonizing positions, so as not 
to be lying on the very width he is trying to tighten, he 
is so tired and " broken in two " that he determines to 
rest again and look the thing over a little. According- 
ly, he reclines squarely in the plate of tacks. Of course, 
the hammer goes flying through the opposite window 
about this time and he stands up suddenly and remarks 
emphatically. His first impression is, that he must have 
sit down on a hornet's nest, or something, but it was 
only the tacks. After he travels around the room a few 
times, as though he was trying to walk a thousand quar- 



ODD HOURS. 217 

ters in a thousand minutes, he gets calmed down, stands 
up in the corner, tries to solve the problem, and admire 
the improvements. He gets down on hands and knees 
again, and attempts to stretch the goods with his grip, 
and springing up off his knees. But, when he bobs up 
from the floor, of course he loses his "push," and when 
he pushes, he loses his " bob-up." He tries this about 
twenty times — his hammer in hand and his mouth lull 
of tacks, — when he feels completely broken to pieces — 
if his feelings indicate anything — 'fore an' att and cross- 
wise. Then, after looking around to see where the plate 
of tacks is located, he sits down, in some place where 
the plate isn't, and declares to himself that he has struck 
one job where words fail to do the subject justice. At 
last he strikes an idea : He calls in a strong, cheap boy; 
he lashes the broom-handle up and down his back, so 
as to sustain the suspension ; then, armed with the im- 
plements of his profession he has the boy grasp him by 
the two ankles as he would a wheelbarrow — and, lo and 
behold, here is a carpet-stretcher, tacker, and swearer, 
combind. This fixed, he grasps the edge of the carpet, 
the boy shoves him up to his work, the broom-handle 
prevents his saging down in the middle, and in course 
of time the carpet is stretched and nailed, his thumb has 
also been " nailed," and he is finally bathed, rubbed 
down and put to bed. In a week, if he is of a strong 
constitution he is able to be out again. No man who is 
not a natural born lunatic, ever puts down more than 
one carpet — very few live through a second job of that 
kind, anyway. 



2l8 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





THE AUTUMN WOODLAND. 



IS our wont, when the season permits, we go 
I for a stroll in the woodlands — the primeval for- 
ests, which constitute the proud and waving 
plumes of our beautiful continent. A stroll through the 
woodland, to the contemplative mind, is as a banquet- 
season, and fills the soul with a stirring sensation that is a 
nectar to our existence. We enter the brambles of the 
" forest's shore," which close behind us, and lock their 
thorny portals as if to bar all comers, and allow us an 
uninterrupted ramble among the products of Nature's 
studio. Soon, the last sounds of a " busy world " die on 
the wings of the empty air, and we find ourself the one 
animate form among the towering giants of the woods ; 
we halt in our zig-zag wanderings and look about us ; 
standing on a carpet of moss that no loom of art can 
duplicate, we become almost smothered in thought, as 
we stand in the mottled halls of the forest, that are silent 
as the tomb, though fragrant as an Eden. We gaze 
about us ; the chambers of the woods present one end- 
less gallery of beauty ; the earth is thickly carpeted, and 
all the trees have sprinkled in the colors, and the gen- 
tle zephyrs have formed the web and woof, in a match- 



ODD HOURS. 219 

less pattern of Nature's chosen tints. Here and there, 
as if jealous of the leaves and boughs, the earth has shot 
upward her " figures " of green and gold, and with the 
humble moss has inlaid " Beauty " with tints too deli- 
cate to be described by mortal pen. As we tread along 
in respectful awe, with sturdy sentinels on either hand, 
and reaching arms, forming a triumphal arch of beauty 
o'erhead, we cannot but believe that the forest is the 
ante-chamber beyond whose bounds must open the gold- 
en portals of a better world. 

The clinging vine, which climbs the trunks of the 
great trees, form the garlands along our path, and with 
gentle patronage hand down a wreath to the passer-by 
more beautiful than a golden coronet, more precious 
than a crown. 

Up through the boughs, as if to crown this earthly 
loveliness with a beauty ineffable, is the dome of the 
heavenly blue — in daytime too delicate to be copied, 
and in the silent night, set with sparkling gems too glor- 
ious to be described. 

Among the arbours of the boughs the happy songsters 
chirrup their songs. The plaintive lay of the robin but 
adds to the solomn grandeur of the time, and while 
standing in deep contemplation of the beauty about us, 
and amid the sacred stillness of the wood, we involun 
tarily ask, " Is Nature, God, or is God, Nature ?" 



i2o UNCLE DUPLETS 




ON THE WAVE. 

He ask'd the Captain why it seemed 
As though his head went 'round — 

One eye kept squinting to r rd the sky 
The other to'rd the ground. 

He said his stomach "puckered up " — 

"Water" was in his mouth, — 
In turn he sweat like a butcher-man 

Then suffered from a drouth. 

The boat kept rolling to and fro — 

He wish'd he'd "side-hill" legs- 
He grew so sick and dizzy, like, 
He could hardly keep his " pegs." 

At last the sky turned bottom-up, 

And held within its bowl, 
A rolling world and a ship tipped up, 

And a " heaving " sea-sick soul. 

Sometimes he fear'd he was going to die, 
And then he feared he wouldn't ; 

At times he could see a rod or two — 
At other times he couldn't. 

He hove and retch'd and retch'd and hove. 
Till he could taste his leathern boots, 



ODD HOURS. 221 

And was left a wreck on the tipping deck, 
To be gather'd up as " scoots," 

He finally lived to tell the tale, — 

To wish, his soul to save, — 
To find the miserable who wrote 

"A life on the ocean wave." 



GLOOM, 

I sit alone in my oaken chair, — 

Peer out through the window pane, — 

And watch the angry sea- waves roll, 
And heed the patt'ring rain. 

The misty clouds, like a mourner's pall, 
Hang low upon the hill-tops' crest, 

The muddy ground and thickning air, 
Shed gloom from east to west. 

A silence reigns o'er all the scene, 
Increasing the weight of gloom, 

No sound is heard, outside the waves — 
Their hoarse and solemn "boom." 

All Nature's sad, and weary, too, 
The birds have sought their rest — 

A day to dream of times now gone 

Of friends now with the blest: 

In hours of sunshine, hopes are high, 
And thoughtless manhood strives 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

To conquer all with puny hands — 
Grasp all within their lives. 

When somber days come on, apace, 
And gloom the world o'erhangs, 

Tis then we halt, in the race of life, 
And feel life's sober pangs. 



DOTS VISIT TO FAIRY LAND. 

Little Dot was a bright-eyed child, and happy, the live- 
long day, 

And in a thousand ways, from morn' till night, she 
passed the hours away. 

She gave no pam to any one, by naughty act, or word, 

But chirruped, through the summer days, a happy little 
bird. 

She loved to hear her mamma read about the fairy 
lands, 

And all about the pranks and games of the little fairy 
bands. 

She asked mamma one starry night — as she laid her 
toys away, 

If she might see these little folk, and with them spend 
a day. 

Her mamma told her, in the morning bright, that she 
could go and see 

The fairy lands, and fairy bands, in the boughs of a 
torest tree. 

So, in the morn, when Dot arose, all dressed in gossa- 
mer blue 



ODD HOURS. 223 

She sprang upon a spider's web, and through the air 

she flew. 
The little fairies laughed and sang, and played on their 

little harps, 
As on they rode, on the spider's web — escorted by 

meadow-larks. 
They were wafted on, by zephyrs soft, until their home 

was seen, 
Among the boughs of a forest tree, and ruled by a fairy 

queen. 
The royal guard of her majesty, when Dot's approach 

was known, 
Brought honey in a butter-cup, and daisies freshly mown. 
The silken web to a leaf was tied, and with music they 

entered in 
To the palace of the fairy queen, whose favor Dot 

would win. 
The queen sat on her crystal throne, with a tiny crown 

of gold, 
And about her stood her courtiers, all fairies, young and 

old. 
When Dot approached, the queen arose, and bade her 

welcome there, 
And told her she had heard her fame, and of her name 

so fair. 
She said the fairies always loved good little boys and 

girls 
And always welcomed such as she, to their pretty home 

of pearls. 
The pearls, she said, were of dew-drops made, and 

bound with sunbeams bright, 
29 



24 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

That fairies had but a single law, and that was this — 

" Do right." 
Then, a feast was given to little Dot, and to the fairy 

band, 
And the fairies all invited there, throughout all fairy 

land. 
And so the hours rapid sped, such joy Dot never knew, 
As with the fairy queen she danced, all dress'd in her 

goss'mere blue. 
At sunset hour, by the queen's command, the fairies 

closed the day, 
And Dot, upon her spider's web, sailed for home away. 
She told her mamma all she'd seen, and how they called 

her good, 
And how she loved the fairy queen, and her palace in 

the wood. 

One of the most interesting things in the Holy 
Land, says a writer, is the fact that one meets every- 
where, in daily life, the things that illustrate the Word 
of the Lord. The streets of Jerusalem are very narrow, 
and no one is allowed to go out without a light. You 
will hear the clatter of sandals as the late traveler rattles 
along. You will see that he has a little lamp fastened 
to his foot, to make his step a safe one. In an instant 
the verse comes to your memory, written in that same 
city three thousand years ago, " Thy word is a lamp to 
my feet, and a light to my path." 



ODD HOURS. 



225 




IN THE TWENTY-FIFTH CENTURY. 




E IMAGINE we live in the twenty-fifth cen- 
tury , and are a young man, seeking informa- 
tion of the past, from an old gentleman who 
was born in the nineteenth century, and has lived five 
hundred years. He loves to sit in the cool shade of the 
old elm, and talk of the centuries he has seen come and 
go ; for even yet he retains a bright recollection of all 
important events since his young manhood. His long 
white hair lends a singular, and almost supernatural look 
to his keen, sharp eyes, and ashen complexion. He 
leans over the top of his short, stout staff, and looks at 
us sharply, and even severely, as he begins : 

" Yes, young man, I was born before the middle of 
the nineteenth century, and here it is, almost the mid- 
dle of the twenty-fifth. I have, with these old eyes, — 
pointing to one with his long bony finger — witnessed 
vastly more scenes and changes in this world's appear- 
ance and affairs than you glean from the best of your 
histories. Even now it seems but yesterday since I was 
a drummer-boy in the first civil war in this country — 
the war that abolished human slavery from this fair 



226 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

land ; now, it is very fair, but it has cost a sea of blood 
and a mountain of treasure to make it so." 

" You remember, I presume, when, by an agreement 
between nations, war was done away with? " 

"That was not till late in the twentieth century. 
Yes I remember it well. The proposition of arbitration 
was advocated by a few of the more humane far-seeing 
people, as early as in 1856; but it was not until over a 
hundred years later that the ambition of men — with 
more of the savage brute in their natures than humani- 
ty and Godliness — could be curbed and cultured up to 
the idea that war was a disgrace to the world and a 
curse that always left its greatest calamity upon the 
humble poor who, until two hundred years ago, made 
up the mass of the human family. All through the war 
ages it was a fearful thing to live ; and indeed, men did 
not live long at best ; for, the excitements of the times 
soon wore out the human constitution, even if it escaped 
being the victim of crime, or of war; man soon gave 
way under the stress and vicissitudes of his day and by 
overwork in the great race for gain and earthly glory 
that so characterized the first two centuries in which I 
lived. Dissipation, too, of all kinds marked those ages, 
and sowed the seeds ot moral and physical misery that 
has reached even to the portals of the present reign of 
peace and good-will on earth. Even the highest and 
most sacred positions in both State and Church, were 
debauched by the most ungodly excesses, until political 
life became a stench in the nostrils of all good folk, and 
the Church was forced to purge itself, and come out of 
the unclean paths into which it had been lured. And, 



ODD HOURS. 227 

speaking about the Church, reminds me that I have 
lived to see the Christian Church break up into a hund- 
red fragments — each fragment claiming superiority and 
right over all others — and after a series of decades of 
disorder in the Christian religion, have witnessed them 
coming together again, until now, as you see, all Chris- 
tians are training under one banner and worshipping 
the true and living God in essentially the same sanctu^ 
ary." 

" But how did all this happen ? — history on that sub- 
ject is rather indefinite." 

"Well, young man, I don't, wonder that it is. To 
have written a precise history of how the hundreds of 
branches of the christian church were cemented, at first 
slowly, and then rapidly, would have required an almost 
superhuman observer, who would have had to live 
through three hundred years, and made the subject a 
constant study and care. The Reformation which oc- 
curred centuries before I was born, was well for the 
world, and even the subsequent breaking into bitter 
sects was no doubt in accordance with the grand plan 
of our heavenly Father ; now, I can see that it was all 
for the best ; then, I used to almost renounce my faith, 
at sight of the awful confusion, jealousies, and evils that 
grew out of the cutting up of the simple Christian faith, 
until the pieces were so small that really they seemed 
not worthy of serious attention, or of admiration in any 
degree. But, after a time these sects ran their race, and 
gradually one after another receded to more reasonable 
grounds, cemented with one another, until at last all 
superfluities were dropped by the older, and the essen- 



228 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

tials were adopted by the newer branches, until by an 
almost imperceptible process all Christians grew into 
one common worshipping mass, with Christ as an ex- 
ample, and enlightened reason as their guide in the true 
path to human redemption." 

" You lived, also, to witness the many and most im- 
portant political changes in our country, and the final 
adjustment of political affairs to the present system ? " 

" Indeed I have, young man. During the first two 
centuries of my career I led an active political life, my- 
self; after that I retired to private life on my humble 
but happy estate as you now see me. Here I have fol- 
lowed a life of ■ industrious ease ' amid the blessings of 
Nature, spending my hours of .leisure in reading and 
contemplation. In all the decades of my life in this 
beautiful hill-bound spot I have more and more become 
acquainted with my God, more abundandy, day by day, 
thanked Him for the grand provision he has made for 
his people, and even now I but begin to appreciate his 
blessings and perceive his mighty character, his love for 
fallen man, and learn the outcome of the great problem 
of the creation. 

"Yes, the seathing furnace of national politics that 
lasted with this nation something over two hundred 
years, was an important agent used in the purification 
of men's minds, the advancement of the people in in- 
telligence, in science, in general knowledge, and ration- 
alism — by which they were enabled to break through 
the dark clouds of superstition, and establish certainties 
where before they were hemmed about on all sides by 
doubts and perplexities. 



ODD HOURS. 229 

M Your histories, however, will give you a very clear 
idea of the progress made by this country in a political 
sense. Until nearly three hundred years ago, we had 
presidents, two houses of Congress, as they called them, 
and a score of national and state dignitaries and bodies 
that have long since been done away with. A thousand 
national questions perplexed the country, but as time 
advanced, daylight gradually dawned, entering into the 
body politic through the windows of intelligent reason 
and a purified and more Godly intellectual nature. 

" Now, as you are aware, our country is governed by 
a council, composed of our wisest and best men — ex- 
Governors of our several States. You see, each State 
elects one of its best fitted citizens — mentally and mor- 
ally — to the position of Governor, for a term of ten 
years — half the States electing at one time, only, and 
they being States geographically located in all parts of 
the country ; these governors are elected by the direct 
vote of the people of the respective states, but no man 
can vote at any election who cannot read and write, 
repeat the Lord's prayer and the ten commandments. 
These ex- Governors, at the end of their terms, respect- 
ively, take seats in the national council for a term of ten 
years, after which they retire from official life. In the 
council they have one vote for every ten thousand votes 
they represent. They have power to make all the laws 
for the nation, provided their acts, before going into ef- 
fect, have been pronounced constitutional by the na- 
tion's supreme court, which affixes its great seal there- 
to. This council also fills all appointive offices by a 
majority vote, and has power to amend the constitution 



230 UNCLE JDUDLEY'S 

by a two-thirds vote. It elects one of its members to 
preside each year, and the heads of departments are 
appointed every five years. 

" Our state councils are formed in a similar manner, 
by one member from each county, elected for five years, 
meet annually, and each has one vote for every thousand 
voters he represents. They are vested with the power 
to make all the state appointments including the judges 
of all the courts, and amend the state constitution un- 
der the same rules that govern the national body, and 
all their acts are to be passed upon by the state su- 
preme court. The governor, however, retaining the 
veto power, and the right to appoint his own private 
officers. 

"This, in a general way, comprehends our present 
system of government, both state and national. Be- 
cause our system of government is now almost perfect, 
and because mankind has grown to be, not only wise, 
but good — a God-fearing and God- loving people- 
official corruption is now an unheard of thing. Since 
it has been so, there has been no cause for complaint, 
and all dangerous rocks have easily been avoided, the 
nation is running in the interest of love and good fel- 
lowship, and all to the honor and glory of the God of 
worlds and of nations. 

" One of the 'most trying dangers — after the war of 
the emancipation of human slavery — through which the 
nation passed, occurred in the opening years of the 
Twentieth century. It is known m history as the poor 
men's war. The country had become so effectually 
within the grasp of rich and greedy monopolies and 



ODD HOURS. 231 

capitalists, that the hundreds of thousands of miners, 
operatives, mechanics and laborers, whose sole depend- 
ence rested upon their whims and edicts, became sorely 
oppressed, and though our land was a land of plenty, 
the amount of suffering that existed among the masses 
of the manufacturing portions of the country incited all 
classes of " workers" to open revolt — first, only in sec- 
tions, and they were crushed time after time, but finally 
in a gigantic and well organized uprising all over the 
union. It required the whole energy of the govern- 
ment, at that time, to subdue the revolt, and the cost 
was immense, both in treasure and thousands of precious 
lives, to say nothing of the billions of dollars in private 
property that was destroyed." 

" How was the great evil finally remedied, and what 
was done to better the condition of the laboring 
classes ? " 

" Well, young man, if you would look up the history 
of that bloody and distressing period, you would see, 
that after the government had asserted its authority, the 
wise men and philanthropists — now fairly frightened in- 
to activity — held councils together, and with the repre- 
sentatives of the suffering masses. They knew that 
something was radically wrong, when thousands and 
tens of thousands of the most honorable and industrious 
people of the country were driven to assert their rights 
by force of arms, and to seek redress by passing through 
a sea of blood and fire. In brief, a special l Congres- 
sional Council ' after first providing for the immediate 
wants of the oppressed classes, a minimum rate of pay 
was fixed for the various grades of working men, and 

30 



232 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

an act passed that all those who could not be provided 
with employment should be given — each single man or 
head of a family — eighty acres of the government land, 
given transportation thereto and loaned, on ten years' 
time, with six per cent, interest, a sufficient amount to 
purchase a team, implements to till the soil, and enough 
supplies to live upon for eighteen months. The parties 
receiving this aid had to, of course, make proof that 
they were such as came within the scope of this pro- 
visional act. By this means, the laboring classes were 
not only relieved, in a measure permanently, but the 
transportation lines were safely operated, the manufac- 
tories were placed on a safe foundation in their conduct 
and the mines were worked with perfect order and sat- 
isfaction to both the employers and the employed. 
Further, by the provision of these small but self-sustain- 
ing homes to the poor but industrious masses the re- 
sources of the country were greatly increased, and the 
government rapidly pushed ahead toward a permanent 
prosperity. Following these wise provisions — which 
ought to have been made long ere the date that the 
terrible shock came — a uniform system of internal im- 
provements was adopted by the government, and 
throughout many succeeding decades annual appropri- 
ations were made for a vast number of internal improve- 
ments — just to an extent, from year to year, suited to 
the capabilities of a prosperous nation like this, without 
crippling herself — and now in this twenty-fifth century, 
you can travel from one corner of the country to an- 
other and behold, everywhere, the wisdom of such a 
policy, in the manifold advantages that have been de- 



ODD HOURS. 233 

rived, aside from furnishing employment for the thous- 
ands of dependent workmen, that under any circum- 
stances, are always found to exist. Here you see, the 
mighty watercourses — the great transportation arteries 
for heavy products — that sprangle like a tree-top 
throughout this great continent, are almost ' walled riv- 
ers,' vieing, in the character of the work and many times 
exceeding in extent, the similar improvements of China 
in the palmiest days of that powerful country. By reas- 
onable encouragement, also, railroads have been built, 
so that every nook has almost equal advantages in a 
market, and the productions, natural and artificial, find 
easy and cheap transport to the domestic markets and 
those of the outer world. 

" By the settlement of the broad domain before re- 
ferred to, and the construction of railways across the 
continent, the Indian problem solved itself; and by the 
whites settling among and around them, they were pre- 
served instead of destroyed , — civilized instead of being 
made more savage, — and for two centuries past, the 
most remote fastnesses of the redmen have bloomed as 
a rose, by the hand of a christianized and happy peo- 
ple — even the breasts of the great Rocky Mountains 
are purple with the vineyards, whilst the valleys leading 
out from either slope of the great continental chain are 
waving with golden corn, and studded with glittering 
and prosperous cities, towns, villages and happy coun- 
try homes. 

" To-day the man who would do a wilfully dishonest 
or dishonorable act, is condemned of men; he who 
would dare to become a beast of prey upon virtue, is 



234 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

sent out into the world with a mark, that all passers 
may know his vileness, and his victim is sought out and 
comforted in proportion to the great wrong she has 
borne. 

" Men, for more than three centuries, have been pos- 
sessed of all the mental gifts given them by their Crea- 
tor. They have not lost their responsibility, their hon- 
or and their constant recollection that they are respon- 
sible, God-made men, through drunkenness and by 
means of all the terrors that followed like scavenger- 
carts in the drunkard's train. The cause was complete- 
ly, though in a gradual manner, removed, and the ef- 
fect, the results, of its removal have been so innumera- 
ble, for the good, that no human soul has been capable 
of enumerating them or of computing their value. 
Look at the world, however as you now behold it, 
young man, and compare it with what it was at the 
close of the nineteenth century, and the glimpse may 
serve to impress you, but the extent of the blessing will 
be found beyond your grasp in its manifold and gigan- 
tic proportions. The bringing of this nation out from 
the gloom of intemperance, rescued it from nine-tenths 
of its sins, and crimes, its poverty and moral degradation 
at one fell stroke, and blessed, as if by magic, the coun- 
try with a race of men y instead of a people where sin- 
ners were the rule and righteous men the exception. 



ODD HOURS. 235 





JOHNNY CUTTING. 



N THE year 1856, long before a railroad was 
built from St. Paul to the head of Lake Superi- 
or, when the vast region lying between the two 
points named was a peculiarly hideous wilderness, the 
writer was one of a party of four who penetrated that 
country nearly up to the St. Louis river. Our object 
was recreation and adventure. At Cross Lake, where 
the early Catholic missionaries for a long time conduct- 
ed an Indian mission, we halted for a month, with our 
headquarters not far from where the old mission build- 
ings stood. The Indians in the neighborhood were 
friendly, and it was not long before our party was on 
such good terms with them that we could leave our 
camp for. days together without finding anything dis- 
turbed on our return. From this point we made lengthy 
trips away into the wilderness, in various directions, 
taking with us a light camping outfit, of course includ- 
ing guns and compasses, and carrying enough provis- 
ions to answer for the trip in view. Sometimes, howev- 
er, we were thrown wholly upon the resources of the 
country ; though we were never sorely in want of pro- 
visions, as game was quite plentiful, and we killed many 



236 UNCLE D UDLE Y'S 

deer and three bears, besides considerable smaller game 7 
during our month's explorations. 

One of our longest t^ips was to the northwestward of 
Cross Lake, in making which we came one day, about 
the middle of the atternoon, to an immense windfall. 
A particularly fierce tornado had passed through the 
dense forest, uprooting the trees and piling them con- 
fusedly in a ridge that extended for miles, This wind- 
fall was the greatest and most difficult to cross of any 
the writer has ever seen, though he has observed many 
in the thick pine woods of the far northwest. 

We had designed going some distance further in the 
direction we were traveling ; and though the huge wind- 
fall we encountered was a barrier not easily surmounted 
by men with tired limbs and heavy packs, we resolved 
to cross it on account of the novelty, as well as for oth- 
er reasons. The point where we struck the windfall 
was in a dense pine growth where the trees had stood 
to a great size and height. Their trunks, as they lay 
piled upon each other were as white as bones, and 
formed a very high ridge about twenty rods in width. 

After a rest of half an hour, a little luncheon and a 
smoke, pur party commenced the ascent. In our clam- 
ber .we met with not a few mishaps, and indulged in 
hearty laughs as one or another of the party tumbled, 
pack and all, down among the great logs. At length 
we gained the summit, the writer having the good for- 
tune to reach the topmost log of the ridge a trifle in 
advance of the others; and to his utter surprise he met, 
at the highest point, face to face with a human being, 
who was known at a glance to be certainly not an In- 



ODD HOURS. 237 

dian. Both were equally astonished/apparently; for 
as we came up simultaneously to the same log, the 
stranger gave a sort of gutteral exclamation of surprise, 
and started backward, with a critical look and a decide' 
ed air of distrust. He was not over five feet, five inches 
in height, and was rather slightly built; though he evi: 
dently possessed great wirihess and agility, with a ca- 
pacity for extreme endurance. He had a small beard, 
yet his face was strikingly effeminate," with a finely-cut 
mouth and nose, and eyes that were ■ wonderfully ex- 
pressive— a pretty dark blue, and wearing a look of 
saddest cast His hands and face were extremely small 
for a man, and his entire appearance, though weather 
beaten and careworn, betokened refinement of person 
and character. His hair-the most striking feature about 
this singular being— though evidently little cared for 
hung «* long, brown ringlets about his head and shoul- 
ders. He was dressed entirely in buckskin, excepting 
his cap, which was of mink fur trimmed with beads and 
porcupine quills. 

Our party, on reaching the place of meeting, took 
seats on the log, while the mysterious stranger seat- 
ed himself on the heavy pack he had been carrying, 
a rod distant. Foi< a moment we looked him over with- 
out speaking, and he gave each of us a searching 
gance, from head to foot. The writer first broke the 
silence by an inquiry as to who he was. He said he 
wasn't anybody, and returned the question. We briefly 
informed him who we were, and what we were there 
for-our mission in that region being nothing in partic- 
ular. He asked us where we were going; and we told 



23S UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

him it was our wish to go in the direction we were trav- 
eling as far as the upper Kettle River. In response to 
our questions regarding that region, and the exact direc- 
tion to it, he informed us in a few words that we would 
be quite the opposite from welcome in the Kettle river 
country, as the Indians would consider us interlopers 
upon their hunting territory, and might conclude to 
make it extremely warm for us, 

This man did not seem disposed to do much talking, 
and his mode of speech was decidedly strange. There 
was a peculiar cut-off to every sentence, and to almost 
every word. We judged this to be owing to his long 
association with the Indians, as in his speech there was 
the gutteral tone common to most Indian languages. 
In reply to our question as to the location of his head- 
quarters, he told us that they were almost anywhere, 
but that just then his camp was about three miles dis- 
tant, where, as it was nearly night, we would be made 
welcome, if we chose to accompany him. After a brief 
consultation we determined to accept his invitation, be- 
cause, aside from a desire to find a camp already made 
for the night, we had a strong desire to learn more of 
the peculiar being we had met in so singular a manner 
in so outlandish a part of the country. 

We all shouldered our packs, and were soon in In- 
dian file, following our guide, through the mossy cran- 
berry marshes and over pine ridges. He carried a pack 
which consisted of furs, deer skins, dried meat and a 
few blackened and battered utensils, the whole weigh- 
ing nearly one hundred pounds. He packed in true 
Indian style. The bundle was secured by rawhide 



ODD HOURS. 239 

thongs, and around it a wide belt of the same, which 
he passed over his head, allowing the band to rest on 
his forehead. When he rose to his feet the pack rested 
at the small of his back, just above the hips. It was a 
perfect wonder to our party to see a person of so slight 
a build carry such a load, and that, too, with apparent 
ease. He traveled fast, and stopped but once in the 
three miles, and then for a moment only. Whilst the 
strongest man in our party, with but half the load, was 
well-nigh fagged out in keeping pace with our guide, 
he seemed but little jaded. 

We found his camp in a romantic spot, on the shore 
of a small lake, the waters of which were clearer, if pos- 
sible, than plate glass, whence flowed a beautiful little 
stream. Both lake and stream were inhabited by thous- 
ands of the most luscious trout. His camp consisted of 
a roomy birch-bark wigwam, in which there was evi- 
dence of neatness and good order. At one end was a 
low, wide bunk, and the bed was wholly made of skins 
and furs. First was a lot of dried grass, gathered from 
the neighboring meadows; on the top of this were 
spread sheets made of deerskins, which had been 
tanned after the peculiar mode of the Indians, and were 
as soft as velvet. At the head was a large pillow filled 
with moss. Over all were two fur spreads or robes, 
which had also been tanned so as to leave them pliable 
as a woolen blanket. At the side of the wigwam was a 
rude table made of rawhide stretched over stakes which 
were driven into the ground. Above this were two or 
three ingeniously constructed shelves, containing various 
articles. Of the latter, some bore evidence of being the 
3* 



2 4 o UNCLE DUDLEYS 

productions of civilization, and others were ingenious 
and pretty specimens of the handiwork of native wo- 
men. In one corner were arranged, in an orderly way, 
quite a number of steel traps of various sizes ; and close 
by them was a receptacle for hunting knife, ammuni- 
tion, gun, tomahawk and other implements of the 
chase. The floor, which was the ground, was covered 
with coarse matting, braided from the marsh flag. 
Two' or three rude stools, in addition, composed the in- 
side furnishing of this strange abode. In a hasty glance 
at the articles on the shelves, we discovered a small, 
cracked mirror, in a frame of bark, a dingy copy of 
Scott's poems, and three or four other very smoky-look- 
ing volumes, the titles of which we did not learn. His 
fireplace was outside, and directly in front of the aper- 
ture which served as a door. It consisted of two forked 
sticks driven into the ground, with a pole across, from 
which latter a very ancient-looking iron kettle was sus- 
pended by a small iron chain, This kettle, with a 
broken skillet, a dinted copper vessel and a birchen 
bucket, constituted the culinary outfit. 

Seeing we were tired, our entertainer asked us to en- 
ter his wigwam and rest, whilst he prepared some sup- 
per. We complied; but the writer, however, after 
resting inside for a few minutes, volunteered to assist in 
preparing the meal. After starting a fire by means of a 
flint and steel and some dry spunk- wood, the host pro- 
duced from behind the wigwam what he called his 
" trout-persuader," and started for the lake beach. This 
contrivance was simply a net, about three feet square, 
finely and evenly woven from the fiber of a water-plant, 



ODD HOURS. 241 

and stretched on two parallel sticks, held in position by 
two cross sticks, lashed at each end by thongs of raw- 
hide, the tension being such as to admit of the net bag- 
ging down slightly in the center. It was with no little 
curiosity that we followed him closely to the shore of 
the lake, to see how he could capture the wary trout 
with such a contrivance ; and indeed, as we soon saw, 
no ordinary mortal could have succeeded with it. He 
motioned us to remain a little back, while he, taking 
the net by the two handles, glided softly along a small 
bay, driving a school of the speckled treasures quietly 
before him, till he came near a sharp nook, which, 
through a narrow passage, led to a minature bay with- 
in, a few feet across. When the school was about op- 
posite the entrance to this, he made a quick upward 
and outward motion of the net, and simultaneously with 
this he leaped, with the quickness of a flash, and set his 
net nearly perpendicular in the mouth of this natural 
trap. Of course the fish, recovering from their first 
fright, would dart instantly for deep water again, but 
not until his net was snugly placed in their way. He 
had made it to fit the entrance to the little grotto exact- 
ly, and when the trout darted back for their freedom 
they ran into the bag of the net, and the next instant 
found themselves — a dozen or more — landed high and 
dry upon the beach by another motion of their captor 
equal in quickness to the one that had imprisoned 
them. 

What with dried meat, chipped up and stewed in the 
iron pot, trout fried in deer's marrow, and the bread our 
party carried, seasoned by the keenest of appetites, our 



242 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

supper and breakfast with this lone man of the wilder- 
ness were among the most enjoyable of all the meals we 
ever ate. 

After supper, as we all reclined about the camp-fire, 
enjoying our pipes — all save our host, who said he never 
used tobacco — we essayed to draw out the stranger, 
and ascertain, if possible, something of his history. 
This, however, we knew to be a delicate task, as his 
manner, though courteous and hospitable, seemed dis- 
tant and reticent, save on topics of the present. Nev- 
ertheless we resolved to try, though every inquiry was 
put in the most casual way lest we should arouse in him 
a feeling of resentment, or a suspicion that we intended 
to be rude. In response to various questions we were 
told by him that it had been several years since he saw 
a white man ; that he never went out to the trading- 
posts, but that he did his trading through the Indians ; 
that he was thirty years of age, and had entered that 
region alone when a very young man, and never intend- 
ed to abandon the wild life he had led so long — a life 
of constant adventure and hardship, with no companion 
save his gun, and holding no intercourse with the hu- 
man family save the Indians of that remote region, nor 
often with them ; that the Indians were friendly at all 
times when he met them ; that his name among the 
whites was John Cutting. It was with some hesitation 
that he told us his parents and relatives were among the 
first families of central Illinois, and wealthy. His reas- 
on for abandoning a life of ease and luxury, at an age 
when he was just entering upon the joys and plearures 
of the world, he declined to state. 



ODD HOURS. 243 

After breakfast in the morning we made preparations 
for returning to our camp at Cross Lake, and Johnny 
said he would accompany us a few miles, as soon as he 
could put his own camp in order and get a few things 
packed for a tramp ; that he was going to the lower 
Grindstone river on a trapping expedition, to be gone 
several days. 

Accordingly, an hour after the morning meal, we all 
started with him as our guide again. Just before noon 
we reached a trail, by taking which, Johnny said, we 
could save considerable distance, and pointing in the 
direction we must go, without saying a word he took 
each one of us warmly by the hand, turned sharply to 
the left of our course, and in an instant more " the lone- 
ly white man," as the Indians called him, had disap- 
peared in the forest. 



Nearly five years after our exploring party had re- 
turned from the remote region of the St. Louis river, the 
tocsin of civil war was sounded, and thousands of the 
young men of the country quickly responded, the writer 
among the rest. I went alone and on foot to the bar- 
racks, found the commandant and mustering officer 
promptly, and told him what regiment I desired to en- 
ter. He informed me that my chance was hardly good 
even in the last company of the regiment beyond the 
one I desired to join, and that the one I had named 
was full already. Reluctant to join any but the regi- 
ment of my choice, yet enthusiastic in the idea of serv- 
ing my country, I was mustered in and directed to re- 
port for duty to Capt. , whose quarters in a certain 



244 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

section of the fort were pointed out to me. Going 
thither, I was admitted to a large room containing 
nearly a hundred new recruits. All was bustle and con- 
fusion. The Captain gave me a suit of regimentals, 
knapsack and blanket, and the orderly seargeant as- 
signed me to a bunk with another recruit, in the quar- 
tets, and I found him engaged in fixing up the cot. As 
I stepped iorward he turned around, looking me square- 
ly in the face, as if to see what sort of a chum had been 
given him. The recognition was mutual and almost in- 
stantaneous — my bunk-companion was none other than 
John Cutting, " the lonely white man." To say that 
each was astonished beyond measure at this second 
strange meeting, but feebly expresses it ; and that night 
we talked long and freely concerning matters that mu- 
tually interested us. 

Cutting seemed to consider himself very fortunate in 
having met some one whose face he had seen before ; 
and during the years that followed, although he was ev- 
er courteous and obliging to all his companions in arms, 
he was never known to converse with those about him 
much more than the rules of war demanded, excepting 
the writer, whom he always sought to be near, and to 
whose mess he was always sure to belong. 

No man in the Union army was a better soldier than 
Johnny Cutting. He always kept his clothing clean 
and orderly, his gun and equipments bright and ready 
for use at an instant's notice. He was orderly to an ex- 
treme ; and his example in the company was more po- 
tent in enforcing good order and discipline than the 
scowls of an exacting officer. When the long roll was 



ODD HOURS. 245 

sounded, calling the regiment to arms, night or day, he 
was sure to be the first to report on the company's pa- 
rade ground, in perfect readiness for battle, with not 
even a button out of place. I never saw a man who 
was as quick, and yet undemonstrative, in his motions 
as he, nor a soldier who so persistently sought to be at 
the front in every danger and hardship that presented, 
of which there was no lack. His favorite place was on 
the picket line, and his commander was not long in 
learning his value in the most responsible position of the 
soldier — that of a picket in front of the enemy. 

Little by little, and in a disconnected way, I gradual- 
ly learned the story of John Cutting's life; and it was, 
in its beginning, the old, old story, of love and disap- 
pointment. 

He was the son of a wealthy Illinois farmer. From 
childhood he had grown up in company with Mary 
Allen, the sweet, blue- eyed daughter of a near neighbor. 
They had attended school together, from the days of 
their a b c's, until they had graduated with honor from 
the best institution of learning in that part of the State. 
They had spent their vacations mostly in each other's 
company, and their heart's tendrils had become so en- 
twined, that to part them would be worse than death 

at least to the warm, true, devoted nature of Johnny 
Cutting. The story of his love may be a short one, 
though no number of strong words could more than do 

justice to a man with such a heart and nature as his 

true to every instinct of nobility and honor, with an un- 
wavering fidelity to all convictions of right, and whose 



246 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

affection, once bestowed, was placed forever and irre- 
trievably r 

When Mary Allen weakened in her love lor John 
Cutting, and in the daze of an hour gave way to the 
blandishments of a fashionably-dressed and jewel-be- 
spangled sprig from the city, who spent his summer va- 
cation in the neighborhood, she bksted the life of one 
she knew to be her equal, and whose love lor her had 
so increased in the course of their many years of com- 
panionship as to attain a strength the tenderness of 
which the trials of a life-time could not tarnish. 

Alone, in her father's grounds, beneath the twinkling 
stars, they met for the last time, and the rose-leaves let 
fall their dewy tears as she told him of her perfidious 
rejection of his hand for that of another. Without a 
word of reproach, he passed down the avenue into the 
road, his frame quivering like an aspen in a storm. As 
he closed the gate he turned around and halted but for 
an instant to catch one more glimpse of her who had 
been the idol of his life. With uncovered head he 
waved her a parting kiss, exclaiming in a husky voice, 
" God bless you, Mary, my darling ! Farewell, forev- 
er ! " And he was lost to Mary Allen's sight for all 
time. 

He hastily bade adieu to his parents, telling them he 
contemplated a trip to the northwestern part of the 
country. Packing together a few things, and placing 
his savings in his purse, he embarked on a Mississippi 
river steamer, buying a ticket for the city of St. Paul, at 
which place he turned his back forever, as he intended, 
upon his own race. 



ODD HOURS. 247 

Almost at the very outbreak of the war he chanced 
to hear the story of the attack on Fort Sumter, and 
became aware of the certainty of a gigantic civil war. 
He sat musing by his camp-fire the entire night upon 
the stirring news he had heard, by the merest chance, 
through a trader who was making a trip in that region, 
and whom he had met at a gathering of Indians as- 
sembled for traffic. By morning his decision was 
reached. He gave all his effects to an old Indian fam- 
ily, they having nearly always, through their attach- 
ment for him, camped in his vicinity, moving their camp 
whenever he moved his, from one section of that wilder- 
ness region to another. He started the day following 
that on which he had received the news, and in three 
days' travel he reached Fort Snelling, and was mustered 
into the army but an hour or two in advance of the 
writer. He had determined, during his night revery, 
far away in the wilderness, to do the only thing left him 
to do, of any value to himself or others in the world, 
by placing himself at the disposal of his country in her 
hour of need, and lay his life upon her altar. 

His regiment passed through many battles, and suf- 
fered its full share of the hardships of the field, and 
Johnny Cutting stood in the front rank of his command 
without the loss of an hour from duty. He had been 
in the thickest of many a bloody battle, and come out 
with scarcely a scratch. He sought the hottest of the 
fight, steadily and coolly loading and firing, while in the 
use of the bayonet his quickness of movement and un- 
wavering courage made him a terrible adversary. 

At the desperate battle of Mission Ridge, the Union 
32 



248 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

army had to charge up the bold range of hills, in their 
endeavor to get a footing on the uplands, where the 
Confederate army was massed in great force. The Fed- 
erals were repulsed again and again in their terrible and 
heroic efforts to capture the Confederate batteries post- 
ed along the brink of the ridge, which were dealing 
death in all directions among the blue -coats on the flats 
below. 

The day wore on in its terrible work, and the hill- 
sides and plain were thickly strewn with the dead and 
the dying ; but the hights were taken, and about the 
Confederate batteries the final struggle ensued. The 
after-spectacle told plainly the tale of the carnage, and 
the stubbornness with which the enemy had defended 
their guns. The depleted ranks of the Federals needed 
no explanation of what the victory had cost them, as 
the storming regiments bivouacked on the field of blood. 

Among the dead gathered for interment the next 
day, the hero of this sketch was found, with many oth- 
er bodies, on the verge of a ledge which he and his 
companions had scaled. He lay calmly, as if sleeping, 
his blue eyes gazing upward in death, and his lips part- 
ed as with a smile. He was laid tenderly in a soldier's 
red-stained grave, where he rests in a hero's last slum- 
ber. He had given his love to a heartless one, and his 
heart was blighted. He gave his life to his country, 
and now wears a patriot's crown in the world of glory. 



ODD HOURS. 



249 




JONES AND THE HORNETS. 




E HAVE laughed over it a great many times. 
.Even in the dead of night we have awakened, 
when Jones and the hornets would run through 
our mind, and we would have to disturb the black still- 
ness with a quiet giggle, because it was too funny for 
anything — funny as far as we were concerned ; Jones 
can't see where the fun came in, even to this day, how- 
ever. When we ask him if he ever saw a black hornet 
(as we do occasionally, when we wish to get even with 
him on anything), he gives us a look that assures us 
that his hash is settled, for the time being, at least. 

Jones and the writer migrated from " Cold Minneso- 
ta " to " Sunny Tennessee," and located at Nashville, 
where we proposed to "grow up with the country," 
and tame the gentle bull-dozer as a sort of life-work — 
teach him to love the Yankees, and persuade him by 
our winning presence that his getting " cleaned out " in 
the late misunderstanding was a blessing in disguise. 
Three years of missionary labor, however, proved to our 
minds that such a hope was a snare and a delusion, and 
so we gave up our labor of love, and the magnolia shades 



250 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

and peanut-fields knew us no longer. But we wander 
from the text. 

During a portion of the Sabbaths, we used to take 
short tours into the adjacent country, for recreation and 
to study country life in the land of cotton — in the land 
where the tobacco plant gallops friskily over the plain 
with the sweet potato vine. More than one adventure 
overtook us upon these strolls, for even the dogs seemed 
to scent " furren blood " when we came within range of 
a plantation, whilst black looks from white men, and 
white smiles from black men, thoroughly convinced us 
that our " shape " was recognized, and that our brogue 
grated harshly upon the ears of our new made friends (?) 
— the pale-faces, we mean. 

On one of these occasions, when we had journeyed 
much farther from the city than usual, we determined 
to save considerable distance on our return by cutting 
across a kind of deserted section of the country — 
through barren, old abandoned fields, etc. We finally 
came to an old " pasture " of considerable extent, with 
a hollow running through it with smooth slopes on 
either side. Shortly after commencing the descent — 
and walking some way apart on our way down the hill 
— we happened to look over in the direction of Jones, 
and — and — well, it was terrible. We first thought our 
comrade had gone stark mad ; that a southern clime 
had gone back on him some way — at any rate he was 
climbing for all that was in sight, and we soon discov- 
ered that it was hornets which were in sight. Brother 
J. was dancing a jig, worse than an Indian corn-dance, 
for contortions, and was reaching frantically with both 



ODD HOURS. 251 

hands, for something in the air. Taking in the situation 
at a glance, we had a notion, first, to fly to the rescue ; 
but, upon second thought, we knew how hopeless it 
would be to " help fight hornets," and the only thing 
we possibly could do to relieve our partner would be to 
simply divide hornets with him, or in other words, take 
half the hornets off his hands. But this idea was very 
repulsive to our inclinations, because we didn't want 
any hornets — we hadn't any kind of use for hornets. 
So, we relieved our conscience in the matter by yelling 
to him to run for his life, and at that we made a bolt 
down the hill, across the hollow, and half way up the 
other hill, before we dared look behind. 

A Tennessee black hornet is about the size of a Min- 
nesota robin ; there isn't as much " death " wrapped up 
in any other living thing, in proportion to size; an in- 
terview with one of them is three times worse than a 
long run of sickness ; they carry a stinger about the size 
of a two-edged razor-blade, and they would rather fight 
than eat ; a genuine black hornet would fly ten miles at 
the dead hour of night if he thought he could find a 
row, and when Jones stepped into their home, they just 
came to the scratch with the greatest imaginable pleas- 
ure. We had rather fight a flock of billy-goats or a 
pasture full of jacks, than three of those hornets, any 
day. 

After getting well up on the other slope we fell down 
from sheer exhaustion, and rolled over to see how Jones 
was coming on. We found that he was too much en- 
gaged to do any good running, but was making a very 
handsome retreating fight, and had gotten pretty nearly 



2 52 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

down into the hollow, and was still reaching out nobly 
for the enemy. By way of encouragement, we yelled 
to him to " go for 'em." And told him we'd watch 
that no more of them should come down from our hill 
to reinforce those already engaged. By the time he 
reached the hollow, his case had been turned over to 
just one old boss hornet, while the others had returned 
to reckon up the damage done by his stepping into 
their nest. Even from that distance we could see that 
Jones' head was enlarging terribly, and that one eye 
was fast closing, and so we volunteered to direct the 
battle by crying out what was best for him to do from 
time to time. The hornet would rise high in the air, 
get his poise and then come down like a bullet at Jones' 
ill-fated head, whilst J. would watch his movements 
with upturned face and his " wellest " eye. Most of 
the time he would parry him over by a tremendous slap 
with his hat; but, occasionally, he would miss the 
"brute," when he would get into his hair, and then 
there would be a minute or two of terrible misery, at 
his end, and (we blush to confess it) a season of side- 
splitting amusement at our end of the column. Such 
clawing; such striking; such turning somersaults, and 
standing on his head never was seen outside of a first- 
class circus. That hornet would fairly howl with rage, 
and Jones kept up a continual muttering of something, 
but we never could believe it was anything suitable for 
Sunday-school talk. At last, Jones literally gobbled the 
creature, sat down on him, and mashed him to a jelly ; 
then, giving one agonized look in our direction he start- 
ed up the hill, and fell exhausted where we had recently 



ODD HOURS. 253 

been reclining ; we had moved further up, when Jones 
commenced coming, because we didn't know how our 
part in the affair might have struck his ideas as to our 
duty in the premises. We preferred, anyway, to get his 
first opinion at a respectful distance; and, beside, his 
appearance as he started up toward us, was enough to 
have appalled, a stronger heart than ours; his head 
looked like an inflated balloon with one eye in it, and 
only a small pimple for a nose, while his hair stood up 
like the down on the back of an ill-humo'red porcupine. 
We finally treated with him, however, and at a late 
hour we got him piloted home, through a dark alley, 
and it took about a week to make " Richard himself 
again." 




z 5 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





'AUNT ZEBBY" REPORTS. 



OUR Uncle Dudley (the " Country Editor,") is 
in receipt of the two following letters from one 
of his esteemed correspondents living in the 
" timber : " 

" Mr. Editor — My Dear Mister : — My son Jim 
an' me was settin' by the fire last night an' we got to 
talkin' over matters an' things about 'most everything, 
from the price of indigo down to marryin'. While I 
was expashaatin' on the miserable indigo we get now a- 
days and what I used to get when my mother used to 
dye her own yarn, I sort of noticed that Jim was kind 
of oneasy, and seemed like as though he wanted to tell 
something that he thought he know'd. At last says I, 
'Jim, what the tarnal ails yer to-night — yer keep a 
skwirmin' around like a fish- worm on a pin. If any- 
thm' ails yer, tell yer mother; you know I'm good on 
colic, or biliousness, or 'most anythin', in fact — if it isn't 
any new-fangled disorder you've caught. What's the 
matter with yer, anyway ? Jim kind o' got red in the 
face, an' if I hadn't noticed he was swettin' freely I'd a 
thought sure it was fever. He grabbed holt of the 
poker and give the fire a shakin', an' says he : ' Now, 



ODD HOURS. 255 

mam, I want to tell yer something but I know you'll git 
mad an' kick around like a turtle that's upsot, if I do, 
an' so, I guess I won't' ' Now, Jim,' says I, ' I'll wa- 
ger all the rag-carpet balls there is up stairs, that I know 
yer complaint right now. Yer lovesick, an' that's just 
what ails you to a nat's heel, Jim, now isn't it ? ' Jim 
he kind of moaned a little, and kicked the cat clear 
across the hearth, and says he : ' Now, mam, / ain't 
'zactly lovesick myself, but I guess Deb is, 'r else she 
wouldn't uv said ' yes ' so quick when I axed 'er if she'd 
like to be next best man to your son Jim ! ' ' There 
now,' says I, 'what did I tell yer! I know'd it long 
go, an' I've been afeard that yer poor old mother would 
be outshined in yer effections one o' these days,' says I. 
But I've felt as though the calamity had got to come 
purty soon, fur a long time now gone, and so I kind uv 
doctored my nerves up with a purty bracin' quality of 
young hyson, so's to stand the shock. ' Well,' says I, 
1 Jim, yer all I have left of my various families, an' it's 
mighty hard; but still I'm sort o' reconciled, because I 
don't know of any better girl than Debbie Sand ; she 
wears good honest clothes, her hair an' teeth's her own, 
she's fair lookin' and is a good cook. She'll make yer 
a good wife, Jim ; but, J — ,Ji — Jim, yer won't fer — fer- 
git yer ole moth — mother, will you, Jim ? ' I just broke 
right down, like a mother 'most always does in such a 
techin' case ; my tea hadn't been very strong that eve- 
ning fer supper anyway. Jim he broke in two, about as 
bad as I did ; and fer about two minutes my poor boy 
he bellered like a spring-calf. Then he come across 
an' put his arm aroun' my neck an' kissed me, and said 
33 



256 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

I was the best mother he ever had, an' beat all three of 
his fathers, put together — son Jim is my last boy by my 
first husband — peace to his ashes. 

' Well, Mr. Editor, we've arranged to have the wed- 
din' just as soon after I get my spring's soap made, 
as I can get things cooked — an' Debbie, my darter-in- 
law, as is expectin' to be, says she wants to help me 
with the cookery, an' things that's to celebrate the kli- 
max of the happy disastur. If you can't come in an- 
swer to the invitation we are all goin' to send you, I'll 
write you about it, and have you put the disertion in 
your paper. You must excuse me for not writin' this 
time about some other things I had in my mind ; but 
you see this Jim marryin' business upset me altogether, 
about other things that needs tendin' to. It's just like 
I'm apt to do, though — I always find so much to talk 
about, before I git to sayin' anything. But, some of 
your pesky latter-day readers will hear sotnething about 
themselves, more'n they ever dreamed of afore I quit 
'em ; fer I always make it a part uv my religion to 
speak to people that needs speakin' to. Good evenin'. 

Aunt Zebby. 



" Mr. Editor — My Dear Mister : — Jim is mar- 
ried ; and so is Debbie Sand ; they both married at my 
house last Saturday evening, and the not was tied by- 
Squire M . The weddin' transpired at the house of 

the bride's mother-in-law, because I have more room 
than Debbie's folks, and besides, I was bound to see son 
Jim yoked into Himan's kingdom right in the house of 
his poor old mother, and see that it was done right, and 



ODD HOURS. 257 

no part of the contract overlooked. I've been mar- 
ried three times, myself, and I think I know the differ- 
ence betwixt a weddin' that'll hold fer life, and one that 
won't run more than six months until it lands in a di- 
vorce shop. There's a wonderful heap of difference in 
weddins in these miserable times. They used to hitch 
people together so's nothin' short of death by lightnin' 
could sunder them separate again ; but now, la me ! 
they get divorces for cold feet, or for an oniony breath, 
or for a measly temper'ment. 

Well, Mr. Editor, we had a real sharp lot of fun, and 
we had just as good a supper as you ever sot tooth 
over; I reckon I'm not braggin' when I say that I can 
cook a leetle better than any of your cook-book house- 
keepers of these days; I season my stuff so as a custard 
pie don't taste like a pan of mashed turnips; and when 
you've eat a supper, you feel as though you'd been 
there. Jim he looked just too good fur any girl, — 'cept 
Debbie, bless her memory, — and the bride looked just 
like I've seen picturs where a duchess and a dutchman 
was gettin' married in a king's house. She had on a 
muslin dress, with flowers of dandelion, and lile-thred 
gloves, and white kerchief around her neck fastened 
with a boka of merigolds, morocco shoes and a Chinese 
fan, hung with a red and yaller cord that I hed when 1 
was about her age. She was the purtiest bride that I 
think was ever sot eyes on, outside of the three occasions 
when myself was the principal attracshun — though I 
ain't sayin' this in any braggin' spirit. But, so the 
world goes; Jim and Deb have gone to housekeepin' 
already, and they live up stairs over my granery. May 



258 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

the good Lord have mercy on each and every one of 
them. 

1 1 had calculated to say something about various 
matters in a domesticated way. Something of real good 
to the people of this hifalutin' age of the world ; some- 
thing that the young girls would find well worth allud- 
ing at, occasionally, if they ever expect to be an honor 
to their sex. There's more outlandishness in one day 
now than there was, when I was a girl, in a day and a 
half; and sometimes I think I might as well try and 
hold my peace, instead of tryin' to give 'em a piece of 
my mind — and then, again, I hardly know which to do. 
It is natural for me to feel like say in' something, when 
there is so much room in the world for sensible talk. 
But, when I get to writin' I find it such a hurculius 
task, that I hardly know where to begin, until I have 
said so much that I have to leave off. But, I want 
your female girl readers, as well as some that claims the 
exsalted posishon of wives and mothers, to remember 
that I haven't forgot them, nor their needy condishun ; 
but I'll tell them somethin' or another one of these days 
that they'll thank me for until long after their dyin' day, 
— I don't care how long they live. Good evenin'. 

Aunt Zebbv. 



ODD HOURS. 



2 59 




AN EARLY-DAY TRIP—NUMBER ONE. 




ARLY in our fifteenth year we had succeeded 
(in persuading our paternal parent to permit his 
prematurely ambitious son to " Go West." 
After obtaining his consent, we could not " wait a min- 
ute," but must be off at once — in the latter part of Feb- 
ruary. Accordingly, after packing into a capacious 
carpet-bag a very plain wardrobe, as well as several 
very " useful books " — including a Holy Bible, Pilgrim's 
Progress, etc., — we gripped our very weighty sack, bade 
adieu to parents, and numerous brothers and sisters* 
climbed aboard the old stage coach, and waved a last 
farewell to the old farm, the brook, and the hills and 
valleys of western Pennsylvania, and started on what to 
us was a literal " leap in the dark." That was in 1855. 
Railroads were not then so numerous nor so well regu- 
lated as now, and even a railroad trip to the far West 
was a journey, the thought of which was calculated to 
cause a shudder of trepidation to run up the spinal col- 
umn of full grown men, in the rural districts of old 
eastern communities. They never undertook the trip 
alone, and even when a venturesome trio started off, 



2 6o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

they were considered regular heroes by all their old 
neighbors and friends. 

We started away fully resolved to reach the then new 
and little heard ot country known as " Minnesota Ter- 
ritory ; " and, with our twenty-six dollars — more dollars 
than we had ever before seen congregated together — 
we felt sure we could get to Minnesota Territory, and 
have money enough left to buy the Territory, beside ; 
but, as we afterward learned, this was a mistake. 

We had never before been out of the county in which 
we were raised, had never seen a railroad, knew no 
more of the ways of the world than we did of the moon, 
and didn't know the difference between a city and a 
watermelon-patch, or between a hotel and a haystack, 
as it were. 

In due time we reached the town, thirty miles away, 
where the railroad was to be taken, and having arrived 
a couple of hours in advance of the train, we carried 
our weighty sack around the streets, or sat upon it near 
the wonderful railroad and contemplated the astonishing 
character ot the iron road, and speculated greatly as to 
how the cars could " stick onto " such a thing, how they 
looked, etc. At last, we heard the roar of the ap- 
proaching train, and as it grew louder and louder, and 
approached nearer and nearer — but was hidden from 
view by a sharp curve near the depot — our knees began 
to knock together with fear and excitement, and the 
bag was so heavy that we could scarcely lift it. In a 
moment the locomotive came roaring and plunging 
around the curve into plain sight, and very near, and 
we felt exceedingly like an orphan without friends, as 



ODD HOURS. 261 

we contemplated for the first time a train of cars ; and 
when the engine came up and blew a terrible blast on 
the first steam whistle we ever heard, we felt pretty sure 
the whole thing, including the train, the depot, the rail- 
road, the people, ourself, and in all probability the whole 
world, had been exploded, and were going into a million 
pieces. After running clear around the depot, clinging 
to our only treasure, however, we saw that the people 
didn't seem to think there was anything particularly 
wrong, and so we calmed down a little — though we re- 
ally wished ourself at home, where things were run with 
less clash and thunder. 

After figuring out where the proper entrance to the 
car was, we made a bold push, and soon were ensconsed 
in a corner-seat, with our grip-sack carefully guarded 
between our feet ; our greatest fear was that some of 
our books might be stolen, and particularly, that our 
Bible or Pilgrim's Progress might in some mysterious 
way, go astray on us ; hence, we were either tightly 
hanging onto our ' grip ' or else sitting on it, all the 
time. 

Soon the cars started, and were shooting along at a 
fearful rate of speed, and we felt sure we must be 
dashed to pieces ; the trees, fences and all objects flew 
past as if shot out of a gun, and all we could do at 
times was to shut our eyes, hold tightly to our treasure, 
and mentally repeat, " Now I lay me down to sleep," 
etc. 

A man soon came along and demanded our money, 
and we gave it to him ; he said it would be five dollars 
to Mansfield, and that was as far as he could ticket us ; 



262 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

he said the train arrived at Mansfield about midnight, 
and that we could be ticketed from there to Toledo, but 
would have to stay over at Mansfield until the next 
evening. 

At Mansfield the hackmen got hold of us, and it was 
a fight for life, among them, to keep from going crazy, 
and maintain possession of our carpet-bag ; after our- 
self and our bag had been pulled and hauled around 
among about twenty shouting hotel villains, one burly 
fellow picked both ourself and our treasure up bodily 
and chucked us into his hack, locked the door, and 
drove off. We were now terribly frightened, and fully 
believed we had been kidnapped and were being driven 
off to some cave where we would be robbed of our 
books and clothing, as well as our money, and then 
murdered. We rehearsed with great rapidity, over and 
over again, all the prayers we knew, and would gladly 
have contributed liberally for the foreign missions if 
there had been any one to pass the hat ; we even tried 
to sing a hymn, and did everything that seemed good, 
as we were jostled around the dark hack m which we 
were imprisoned. 

After a time, to our great relief the conveyance 
stopped in front of a well-lighted * tavern,' and the driv- 
er opened the door, and after telling us to give him 
twenty-five cents, told us that was his tavern and to go 
in and stay all night. We went in and hesitatingly took 
a seat in a shaded corner on our carpet bag after feeling 
it over to find out if any of our books had been stolen 
in the scrimmage, or our treasure had been otherwise 
damaged. We took a general survey of the place, and 






ODD HOURS. 263 

felt sure we must have been ushered into some king's 
palace, so grand did everything look. Pretty soon a 
young man, with a beautiful moustache, and gold shirt- 
buttons came to us and asked who and what we were. 
We very frankly told him our whole story, when he 
laughed heartily, as he remarked : ' I guess you have 
never traveled much, young man ? ' We told him we 
had traveled a good deal within the last twenty-four 
hours ; that if we traveled many more days like we had 
the last day we should be worn out, or torn to pieces. 
He said it would cost us two dollars to stay at that ho- 
tel until the Toledo train went out the next evening, 
and that he would show us to our room where we could 
go to bed. We thought that was a tremendous amount 
of money for the privilege offered, but not knowing what 
else to do, we followed him to a room, and went to bed. 
We did not retire, however, until we had taken an ac- 
count of stock in our grip-sack, to see that our books 
and other property were all right, and counted over our 
money, which we found had shrunken at a fearful rate ; 
but, having no adequate conception of the great distance 
to be traveled, nor the thousand and one additional de- 
mands that would be made upon us, we did not fear 
but that we had even yet sufficient wealth to get us 
through to St. Paul. 

Daylight found us out of bed, and after taking a care- 
ful invoice of stock again we went down stairs, and the 
landlord — noticing that we were a clear case of ' buck- 
wheat \ — kindly proposed that he would take care of our 
baggage until the train started, and relieve us from its 
constant care ; he promised to put it under lock and 
34 



264 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

key for us, and so we took the chances, and after break- 
fast started out through the town to see the sights. 

After wandering around for an hour or so, reading 
the wonderful signs, and beholding, with mouth agape, 
all the wonderful things in the store and shop windows, 
we came to a place where a man had an immense 
* whirligig,' from the long arms of which were suspend- 
ed wooden horses, carriage-seats, etc., upon which one 
could ride, so many times round, for ten cents, and 
could ride astride of one of the horses or in a carriage 
seat, as he chose. An immense crowd of idle men and 
cheering street boys were present, and whenever the 
owner got his horses and seats full, he would start his 
machine and away would go the whole twenty cheering, 
yelling riders, until a hundred rounds had been passed, 
when the thing would pull up and a fresh load be taken 
aboard, or the same riders would go again by repeating 
the ten cent part of the programme. 

Of course, this just beat anything we had ever heard 
of, and it did not take long to convince us that ten cents 
would be well invested in a hundred trips around this 
sweeping swing, and one of the beautiful wooden horses 
was our choice, by a large majority. 

We climbed onto a dapple-grey horse, paid our dime, 
and soon all the seats were full and the swing started ; 
we had forgotten that even to ride in a common swing 
made us deathly sick — much less one of these flying cir- 
cular contrivances — and before we remembered this, 
and discovered this to be a ten-fold more * sickening ' 
thing than a common swing, it was going so fast that 
to jump off would have been death or broken limbs, 



ODD HOURS. 2 6 5 

and we soon discovered to our horror that we were in 
for what would probably prove a ride of ruin, so far as 
we were concerned. We tried to yell to the proprietor 
to stop and let us off, but the din and clatter drowned 
our voice ; we swung our hat at him, and motioned with 
our legs, in the most desperate manner, but all to no 
purpose, and we resigned ourself to our fate, and devot- 
ed our fast failing health to the task of hanging on to 
our dapple-grey horse. Very soon the houses, and the 
whole world was whirling like a buz wheel, and we 
could scarcely hold our seat; pretty soon we leaned 
forward and hung on with both hands locked about our 
horse's neck, whilst groans of agony were sent out, as 
our contribution to the general jubilee, and the whole 
crowd sent up a howl of delight at the sight of our grief. 
We have read of the agonies of seasickness, and how 
landlubbers fairly threw up their boots over the bul- 
warks, but we beg leave to assert that the worst case of 
seasickness recorded, either in history or out of it, was 
a season of perfect bliss compared with our ride on that 
whirligig; such retching and bodily contortions; such 
awful sensations, as we went round and round, wanting 
to die and yet clinging to our horse for fear we should 
fall off and be dashed in pieces. But everything has an 
ending, and that ten cent ride also ended after what 
seemed an age of agony, and we rolled off and lay limp 
as a rag on the ground—our hat gone, our jeans pants 
ripped, our hair all over our face which had grown, al- 
ternately, ashen and blue. We became unconscious, 
and after an hour we awoke and found ourself in a 
grocery, with a doctor administering mild stimulants 



266 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

with a teaspoon. After a time we were enabled to walk 
slowly, and the groceryman's boy showed us the way 
to the hotel, where we were glad to find that our car- 
pet-bag was safe, and for three or four hours we lay on 
the bed, at the end of which time the world ceased 
whirling around, our nerves became settled, and a cup 
of tea and a piece of toast kindly sent us by the land- 
lord, put our internal fixtures into a pacified and some- 
what improved condition ; so that at the hour of our 
departure we were enabled to take full command of our 
grip-sack once more. The landlord in his generosity, 
said he guessed we had had a rough enough experience 
in Mansfield, and did not charge us anything for our 
stay. From that day to this we cannot think of one of 
those machines without feeling sick at the stomach. 

After stammering out our thanks to the kind host, 
we tound the depot after a deal of inquiry along the 
streets, found the place to buy a ticket to Toledo, and 
got aboard the right car, after boarding two or three 
wrong ones, and coming near being run over by a 
switch-engine. After getting ourself and our baggage 
safely stowed away in a corner, we looked over our 
money, and found we had fourteen dollars and sixty 
cents of a balance on hand; but, thinking Toledo 
couldn't be very far from St. Paul, we consoled ourself 
and during the night that followed we curled down on 
top of our * grip,' and wore away the weary night by 
snoozing and dreaming of riding on that whirligig, and 
morning found us shrunken in frame, troubled in spirit 
and haggard in appearance. 

We arrived in Toledo in a cold, drizzling rain, and 



ODD HOURS. 267 

succeeded in escaping from the hackmen, with our 
property, after having been nearly pulled in two, and 
started up through the dreary muddy town, looking 
cautiously along for some one with a benevolent face of 
whom we could inquire when and where we could start 
for Chicago. Our load seemed very heavy, and it was 
with difficulty we could carry it. Finally an old pea 
nut man showed us the steam -ferry upon which we 
would have to cross the harbor to the Chicago depot. 
By watching the big folks on the other side of the har- 
bor, and by a good deal of inquiry, we finally found 
ourself aboard the Chicago bound train, with but five 
dollars and thirty-five cents left. So intense had been 
our concern, that it was not until noon that we remem- 
bered not having had anything to eat, except the toast 
and tea, since the morning previous; and at Michigan 
City we went into a coffee-house near the depot and 
ate twenty cents worth of bread and coffee, and bought 
five cents' worth of pea-nuts. 

Near midnight we landed in Chicago, amid a howl- 
ing mob of hotel- runners, rain, mud and snow, with no 
more idea where we were — aside from the name — than 
if dropped into another world. By an inquiry we had 
made on the cars, we learned the fare from Chicago to 
Galena was just five dollars — Galena was the most 
northerly point on the Mississippi River then attainable 
by railroad. 

After asking many questions, and receiving many a 
heartless rebuff, and derisive reply, we finally, by almost 
superhuman exertion, in packing our load, found a ho- 
tel, nearly a mile from the depot, where we timidly en- 



?68 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

tered, and seated ourself on our carpet-sack in the shade 
of one of the great pillars in the palatial office of the 
large, brilliant hotels-one of the first in the city. We 
were exceedingly weary, and by this time had fully con- 
cluded that our ; money must run out long, ere we 
reached our destination, and the fact began to weigh 
heavily on our spirits y we were not only ashamed to 
beg, but were afraid to let our destitute condition be 
known ; imagining that our pight was the first and only 
similar misfortune that had ever befallen any one, we 
shrank from the idea of making it known, but fully de- 
termined to go till the last , penny was gone, and then 
trust to Providence for the rest. 

It was not long after we entered the hotel before all 
the guests had retired* and we were discovered by the 
man on duty in the place, who approached us and in a 
gruff voice said ; 

1 Here, you young rooster, what are you doing here 
— you'd better carry yourself out of this, in less'n a fly- 
in' minute!' 

We seized our satchel, and with a terrible sense of 
guilt, or something of a similar feeling, we made for the 
door as fast as possible; but, turning and giving the 
man a frightened look, he seemed to relent, and in a 
milder tone called out : 

'.\ I say, boy, hold on a minute.' We stopped on the 
threshold, when he continued : 4 Come back here, and 
tell me what you are doing around Jbere, anyway.' 

We hesitatingly sank into a chair near where he was 
standing, and in answer to his questions told him who 
we were, and whither we were bound, etc., and appar- 



ODD HOURS: 269 

ently being convinced of bur honesty he told us we 
might occupy a chair in the corner until morning, and 
he also told us when the Galena train started— at eight 
o'clock — and gave us a general idea of the direction to 
the depot, though he said it was nearly two miles away. 
We thanked him for his kindness, and then ■ snuggled 
down ' into the big chair, with our sack on our knee, 
and enjoyed an uneasy kind of sleep until daylight, 
when we shouldered our sack and started out to find 
the depot. 

By dint of great labor, we found it barely in time, and 
our general appearance was much the same as when we 
got through with our ride at Mansfield. In our ramble 
in search of the Galena depot we had passed through 
the hands of a couple of burly newsboys, who seemed 
to feel it their religious duty to give us a complete wal- 
loping; our concern was not so great for ourself as for 
our glazed carpet-sack, which we had saved only by 
great bravery induced by desperation; the poor grip- 
sack was worse used up than ourself when we reached 
the depot, having one side kicked in, our precious books 
badly jammed, and one of the handles of the sack torn 
off. At the depot we paid all our money for a ticket 
to Galena excepting ten cents, and left Chicago with 
many a heart-sickening misgiving as to what would 
happen next, for our special edification, with a dozen 
sore spots contributed by the newsboys, and a very poor 
idea of Chicago hospitality. During the day we got 
our needle and thread and, so far as possible, made 
amends in our wardrobe and reconstructed our poor 
dilapidated baggage. 



2 7 o UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

We had nearly all day to reflect upon how we were 
getting on in the world, and were finally convinced that 
during the past three days we had learned more than 
in all the rest of our life — in fact we felt that we had. 
We also learned by overhearing others talk, that the 
upper Mississippi river was yet closed by ice and would 
be for weeks to come ; that Galena was a miserable 
town in which to remain until navigation opened, that 
Dubuque was a much finer city in which to sojourn, 
but that the only way, just at that season, to go from Gal- 
ena to Dubuque was to walk across a wild region a dis- 
tance of eighteen miles to Dunleith, and there cross the 
river to Dubuque, on the Iowa side, on the steam ferry, 
which would cost ten cents. We had just that amount 
of money left, but how were we ever to reach Dunleith ? 
Already two days with scarcely anything to eat, and 
another day and night yet lying between, with our sa- 
cred property, weighing some twenty-five pounds and 
with which we would no sooner think of parting than 
we would with our right hand — especially with our 
* good books.' And right here we propose to relate 
one ot the most noteworthy cases of physical endurance 
we have ever since heard of. 

We can scarcely, even to-day, explain what it was 
that kept us from at least asking for something to eat ; 
but we felt impressed with the idea that all humanity 
was our enemy, we were retiring and modest at that 
age — since outgrown, however, — to the greatest possi- 
ble extreme, and withal possessed of self-pride, and a 
self-respect that formed an insurmountable barrier to 
our begging, even had we not considered it positively 



ODD HOURS. 271 

dangerous to ask for anything without paying all that 
was required, and, of course, in our extreme innocence, 
we should have died a dozen deaths ere we would have 
taken even the most trifling thing without the knowledge 
of its owner. Thus, amid the most terrible condition 
ot the roads and weather we landed at Galena some 
time after dark of a black and terrible night, and, by 
following in the wake of the crowd soon found ourself 
and our precious bag in the office of the principal ho- 
tel. 

Here we met with some decidedly new features in 
our eventful journey. The hotel was crowded with 
travelers and adventurers, and with the rest there were 
about twenty Winnebago Indian chiefs, who had 
reached there the day before "from a trip to Washing- 
ton on a treaty tour. We had never seen an Indian 
before, and when we suddenly found ourself in the 
midst of a great crowd of these stalwart, painted and 
blanketed warriors, with knives, tomahawks and war- 
clubs lashed to them, we certainly felt that life with us 
was to be but a brief session. But, though we were in 
continual fear of them all of that, to us dreadful night 
— for we were well read in all the horrors of Indian 
warfare and massacres — we finally concluded that by 
keeping in a shady corner, and conducting ourself with 
the greatest decorum, we might be spared, for we no- 
ticed that the white guests were very familiar with them, 
and the Indians seemed to be in a pleasant mood. 

Supper-time came, and the guests were summoned 
by a fellow beating on a terrible gong ; we had never 
before heard one of these tumultuous carriage-dispens- 

35 



272 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

eys, and it just about frightened what little life we yet 
possessed, clear out of us. Of course, we were only 
too glad to be allowed to remain inside, without daring 
to even look into the room where the steaming viands 
sent out their luscious odors, to only aggravate our 
starving sensations. 

It was late when all the guests had retired, and the 
savages spread their blankets about on the office floor, 
all around us, and alternataly slept, talked in their sing- 
ular tongue, or smoked their pipes until the room was 
densely filled with smoke. And there we sat, finally, all 
alone with these armed red skins, afraid to even move, 
and watching their every movement through all that 
weary and painful night. 

Morning eventually arrived, after a seeming age, and 
such a morning ! It had snowed nearly a foot, on top 
of the almost bottomless mud, and was dark and murky 
overhead. Breakfast was announced, the guests all 
gayly responded to the call of the gong, after having 
their morning dram at the bar, and we almost, at once, 
made up our mind to ask the clerk for something to 
eat ; but our heart failed us and we did not do it. We 
could see that the town was a repulsive looking place, 
and as we had heard a dozen or more of the men agree 
to undertake the trip through to Dubuque on foot, de- 
spite the horrible condition of the roads, we resolved to 
follow in their wake, though we had also heard them 
describe the route as lying through a barren, wild and 
desolate country. 

After breakfast they fixed themselves completely for 
the trip; long boots, unencumbered by luggage, to 



ODD HOURS. 273 

speak of, they filled their flasks with stimulants, their 
cases with cigars, and finally all started in high spirits 
through the mud and snow, with the writer at a re- 
spectful distance in the rear, with his carpet-bag on a 
short stick across his shoulder. 

We had no more than entered the barrens in rear of 
the town when we began to realize that our undertake 
ing was a most desperate one, with such a load, and in 
our condifion, but still something seemed to impel us 
forward through the mud and snow nearly knee-deep. 
We seemed to feel that if we could reach Dubuque, it 
would be vastly better for us, because it would be so 
much further on our journey, and could not but prove 
an improvement over Galena as a place where we might 
find employment. 

For a distance of three or four miles we kept close to 
the well-fed travelers, though none of them deigned to 
notice us, save to occasionally turn around and, with a 
laugh, yell out, ' Hurry up, Bub, or the wolves will 
make a dinner out of you ! ' After a while we began to 
fall to the rear, and finally, in spite of our exertions to 
keep up, they passed out of sight entirely. We shall 
not attempt to portray our experiences during the re- 
mainder of that day, for such experiences are beyond 
the power of pen or pencil. With nothing to eat or 
drink for nearly three days, save the little lunch two 
days previous, we now found ourself in the midst of a 
wilderness, alone, starving, and weighed down by a load 
too great for even a strong man to carry over such 
roads. After traveling until nearly noon, as we judged, 
we fell exhausted in the snow, and lay almost uncon- 



274 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

scious for a time, when we aroused again, and struggled 
on, with only a desperate resolution as our last support. 
We knew, every time we fell, which grew more frequent 
as the day wore on, that if we lay until our joints be- 
came stiffened and set — and they seemed, finally, to be 
growing solidly together — that we should perish through 
sheer helplessness, or speedily be devoured by the wolves 
which were abundant then in that wild region. So, with 
all the horrors of our situation pictured before our eyes, 
we would scarcely more than tall to the ground ere we 
would begin the struggle to get up again. Our feelings 
can neither be conceived or described ; and our ghastly 
and crazed appearance must have corresponded well 
with our awful physical sensations. 

We must have been a picture of insane distress when, 
just before dark, we reached the wharf at Dunleith, and 
staggered aboard the steam ferry, that was just pulling 
out for her last trip across the great river for the day. 
In a moment after starting, and as we stood leaning 
against the rail, the collector came around and we gave 
him our last dime, then we staggered along into the low 
cabin, dropped our sack on the floor, fell prone upon a 
long bench, and all consciousness was suddenly blotted 
out. 

Up to this time our trip had certainly been an event- 
ful one, and one in which human endurance was tested 
to the quick. But fourteen years of age, very slightly 
formed and small of our age ; two days and a half and 
two nights without a morsel of food of any kind, and 
scarcely any sleep, and on the last day made a march 
with a load and through a country and over a road that 



ODD HOURS. 275 

would have been very trying to a strong man to accom- 
plish. We have always considered that trip a thorough 
proportionate test of what a human being could endure, 
and yet remain on the earthly side of the dark valley. 

When we first realized where we were, after passing 
into unconsciousness on the steamer, we found we had 
been carried to the city hotel, in Dubuque, by direction 
of some kind-hearted gentlemen who saw us fall. Ly- 
ing on a lounge in a beautifully furnished and lighted 
apartment, with a waiter and a physician sitting beside 
us, apparently watching with deep interest the result of 
the trial, of which they yet knew nothing. The first 
thing we remembered to have spoken was an inquiry 
concerning our precious grip-sack, and the waiter as- 
'sured us it was safe in the office of the hotel — oh, that 
precious property ! It was near morning, and the doc- 
tor, after seeing us safely revived, left medicine to be 
given us, and said he would call again during the day. 
We could not move even a muscle, much less a limb, 
and it was nearly a week before we were enabled to 
walk about again — in the meantime having suffered 
greatly. 

The landlord — whose name we have now forgotten — 
had inquired into our history, and assured us that we 
should be taken care of until the river opened, and then 
he would see that some way was provided for our reach- 
ing St. Paul ; and when we were able, he said he had 
some light duties about the hotel which we could do for 
him. It is needless to say that as soon as possible, we 
were a most faithful servant to our kind and generous 
benefactor. 



2j6 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

After two or three weeks we were again taken sick, 
and for some time the balance between life and death 
quivered dubiously ; our wiry constitution, however, 
finally triumphed, and we again became convalescent. 
This was the spring when the cholera broke out all 
along the river with such terrible fatality, and every 
steamer that came from below was loaded with death in 
most horrible forms. 

The landlord finally told us one morning that if we 
were bent on going through to St. Paul, the steamer 
Hamburg would be in during the day and her master 
old Captain Estes, being a warm friend of his he would 
introduce us to him and request him to set us down in 
St. Paul as safe and sound as circumstances would per* 
mit, which he knew he would do. 

Accordingly, when the Hamburg arrived our noble 
friend consigned us and our grip-sack to the care of 
Captain Estes, and with real feeling requested him to 
look after our welfare, which the bluff, kind-hearted old 
skipper most heartily promised to do — the old Hamburg 
at this day ■ sleeps ' at the bottom of Lake Pepin. 

Though other steamers which had come from below 
were freighted with death, the Hamburg could certain- 
ly claim the palm in that line, and our slow trip up the 
river was a journey of death indeed. At every landing, 
more or less dead were put ashore from among the four 
or five hundred passengers, and at every wood-pile 
corpses were hastily interred by the deck hands. At 
the then young town of La Crosse, we painfully remem- 
ber, there were seven dead brothers and sisters laid side 
by side, on the wharf, with their dead mother, and when 



ODD HOURS. 277 

the boat pulled away we beheld, the last object we saw, 
the frantic father and husband wailing over his loved 
ones gone, through the horrors of cholera, to another 
land from the one they had started for with such hopes 
and promise for the future. 

Captain Estes was indeed very, very kind; his solici 
tude for our safety and care was all that the fondest 
father could have bestowed, and although we drifted 
speedily into the first stages of the dreadful disease that 
was constantly spreading death and agony all over the 
boat, he, with his great experience, doctored us and 
watched our condition so closely, that he battled away 
the disease, so that when we reached St. Paul, though 
but a respectable skeleton, we had safely passed the 
point of danger, and afterward gradually regained our 
wonted health and vigor, by means of the grand and 
salubrious climate into which we found ourself intro- 
duced. 

Many a mental prayer have we since uttered in be- 
half of the landlord and Captain Estes — two among the 
most noble of God's noble men. 




2jS 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 





FLY TIME. 



ROBABLY one of the most "interesting' 7 
($ times in the year is that known as "fly-time." 
lr By this we do not mean a time to fly, but refer 
to the little creatures that get drowned in the butter, 
strangled in the molasses and boiled, by pairs, in your 
coffee just in time for you to drink them both before 
you can " stop it." Hot coffee " with a fly in it " is a 
very common morning beverage just now, and beats 
lemonade " with a stick in it " by a large majority — it's 
richer. We kept a "last surviving' 7 fly all last winter, 
in our sanctum, just through compassion j the little ras- 
cal was all bunged up with the rheumatism, and had 
spells of " lumbago in the back," when the weather was 
severe, but by careful nursing we brought him through 
the winter. He grew very independent toward spring, 
and would go limping around on our table just as 
though he owned the office. Probably one thing that 
made him so " stuck up " was, that we fed him all win- 
ter on nothing but paste. We regret now that we pre- 
served that fly's life, because he went off about a month 
ago and told all the other flies in the United States that 
he had struck a place where they could live the year 



ODD HOURS. 279 

through, and a silly man who would feed them, blanket 
them, rub the creaks out of their backs, and wait on 
their pleasure generally. The result is — flies. We nev- 
er saw so many flies before. They seem to come from 
every location known to man, and are of every variety 
imaginable: Large black fellows, blue-bottles, gray, 
brindle, brown, silver-winged, line-back, short-horns, 
suckers, biters, red-headed, six-legged, four-legged, and 
other varieties too numerous to mention. In fact we've 
got 'em bad. 

Things finally grew so serious, that our love for flies 
became exhausted, and after much candid reflection we 
resolved to make war on them, and instead of preserv- 
ing their lives, destroy them. We put fly-paper to soak 
all around in numerous plates, bought enough fly-brick 
to build a smoke-house, and as many of the latest im- 
proved fly-traps as our modest apartments could ac- 
commodate, and commenced business. At first they 
fought shy ; but finally we got their confidence in the 
matter of the new dishes we were serving up to them, 
etc., and they went for it. It actually grieves us to 
think ot what followed ; if it is wrong to kill flies, then 
we are a clean goner. They seemed to believe that the 
poison was medicine, intended by their benefactor to 
keep off summer-complaint, cholera-infantum, etc., and 
to toughen them up for a winter's campaign, and it was 
sad to see them come ; at times the air would grow al- 
most dark with the delegations pouring in from Wiscon- 
sin, Iowa, Missouri, Texas, Maine, California, and ev- 
erywhere. At the end of two days — well, dear reader, 
we know you would scarcely believe it if we should say 

36 



2 8o UNCLE DUDLEYS 

we had seven bedticks full of the fallen flies, and more 
live flies than we had in the first place. 

This is an awful season for flies, in this section, and 
we are to blame for it all — for which we are extremely 
sorry. If ever we devote our charity again entirely to 
the preservation of flies through the winter, we desire 
that somebody may persuade us that it isn't the proper 
thing to do. 



The congress of nations which met in Naples for 
the purpose of considering the propriety of a general 
disarmament of the world, with no more " wah " to fol- 
low, bu'sted up in a general row. The representative 
of each nation present became fighting mad, and en- 
gaged in every kind of war save actually knocking one 
anothers' heads off. They adjourned and started for 
home to load up their bayonets and whet their cannons 
to a razor-edge. Instead of inaugurating universal 
peace, they came mighty near working up a large piece 
of war. This illustrates how " nearly we are not ready/' 
as yet, to substitute arbitration for war. 




ODD HOURS. 281 





THE NIGHT-PRAYER, 



,HERE is no time so sad and sweet as the dead 
hour of night. Silence and shadow reign in per- 
fect harmony. The pale stars, in endless clus- 
ters, look and twinkle, and keep their glorious vigil o'er 
a slumbering world. The very trees, with their dark, 
thick foliage, stand in seeming awe of the surrounding 
solitude ; Heaven and earth seem to commune togeth- 
er, while angels weep their tears of dew in their sym- 
pathy with poor, fallen humanity. The uneasy sleeper 
is startled from his restless pillow, by the phantoms of 
his life, and is stricken as by fear ; he tosses restlessly, 
and close his eyes as he may, no refreshing sleep seals 
fast their lids ; a glimmenng star peers in at the shut- 
ter, and its brightness beckons him from his couch ; he 
rises and steps out into the silent beauty, and stands 
amid the pearly jewels of the dew as they reflect from 
their tiny crystals the glory from on high. He bows 
his head in submission, and his very soul cries out, 
" O, thou Author of all this, make me pure like these 1 
Wash my heart with these angel-tears, that I may dare 
look upward into those eyes of glory ! Blot out, forev- 
er, the sins of the past from Thy remembrance, that 



282 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 



even the stars may not see nor the angels know them. 
Let Thy grace fall upon me, as the dew upon the grass, 
that mine utter weakness may be changed to strength, 
and the darkness of my soul made to flee before the 
heavenly brightness of a conscience made clear. 
Then, will restful peace guard my pillow, and noble 
deeds grace my day- walks, and all to Thy glory." 
Amen. 




ODD HOURS. 283 



APPENDIX. 

— § — 

HON. J. PROCTOR KNOTrS SPEECH IN 
CONGRESS, ON DULUTH 

In January, 187 1, while the bill for the renewal of 
the St. Croix land grant was pending in Congress, a 
large lobby was in attendance, in favor ot this measure, 
and probably an equally large one opposed to it. The 
latter was composed exclusively of the friends of Du- 
luth. They wished the bill killed, in order to prevent 
the building up of Superior or Bayfield, as a rival to 
Duluth. The people of St. Paul, generally, with the 
exception of those especially interested in Duluth, fa- 
vored the bill. Hon. Eugene Wilson, member of Con- 
gress from Minnesota at that time, was the champion of 
the bill. A vigorous fight had been made over the mat- 
ter and finally the day came when the vote was to be 
taken. The result seemed trembling in the balance and 
was exceedingly doubtful. 

Just at this juncture, Hon. J. Proctor Knott, of Ky., 
who was no friend ot Duluth, and who like many other 
congressmen, had a rather confused idea of the geog- 
raphy of the northwest, as it seems, got the idea that 
the people of Duluth and those of the St. Croix valley 
had a common interest in the passage of the bill, and 
he thought he would give Duluth a back-set by turning 



*g 4 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

the bill into ridicule ; and so, to the sorrow of the friends 
of the bin and to the delight of the friends of Duluth, 
he arose and doubtless made the most amusing speech 
ever made in the American Congress; and that speech 
had just the effect that he intended — that is, it killed 
the bill as dead as a door nail, but he found when it was 
top late, that he had done just what Duluth wanted I 

It is a rare feast for the lover of the humorous, and 
will be read by many generations yet to come with keen 
relish— provided, like the present generation, they ap- 
preciate a thoroughly " good thing." 

THE SPEECH. 

Mr. Speaker j If I could be actuated by any conceivable 
inducement to betray the sacred trust reposed in me by those 
to whose generous confidence I am indepted for the honor of a 
seat on this floor ; if I could be influenced by any possible con- 
sideration to become instrumental in giving away, in violation 
of their known wishes, any portion of their interest in the pub- 
lic domain for the mere promotion of any railroad enterprise 
whatever, I should certainly feel a strong inclination to give 
this measure my most earnest and hearty support ; for I am 
assured that its success would materially enhance the pecuni- 
ary prosperity of some of the most valued friends I have on 
earth ; friends for whose accomodation I would be willing to 
make any sacrifice not involving my personal honor or my fidel- 
ity as the trustee of an express trust. And that fact of itself 
would be sufficient to countervail almost any objection I might 
entertain to the passage of this bill, not inspired by an impera- 
tive and inexorable sense of public duty. 

But, independent of the seductive influences of private 
friendship, to which I admit I am perhaps, as susceptible as 
any of the gentlemen I see around me, the intrinsic merits of 
the measure itself are of such extraordinary character as to com- 
mend it most strongly to the favorable consideration of every 



ODD HOURS, 285 

member of the House, myself not excepted ; notwithstanding 
my constitutents, in whose behalf alone I am acting here, would 
not be benefited by its passage one particle more than they 
would be by a project to cultivate an orange grove on the bleak- 
est summit of Greenland's icy mountains. [Laughter.] 

Now, sir, as to those great trunk lines of railway spanning 
the continent from ocean to ocean, I confess my mind has nev- 
er been fully made up. It is true they may afford some trifling 
advantages to locate traffic, and that they may even in time be 
come the channels of a more extended commerce. Yet I have 
never been thoroughly satisfied either of the necessity or expe- 
diency of projects promoting such meager results to the great 
body of our people. But with regard to the transcendent mer- 
its of the gigantic enterprise contemplated in this bill I never 
entertained a shadow of doubt. [Laughter.] 

Years ago when I first heard that there was somewhere in 
the vast terra incognitia, somewhere in the bleak regions of the 
great Northwest, a stream of water known to the nomadic in- 
habitants of the neighborhood as the river St, Croix, I became 
satisfied that the construction of a railroad from that raging 
torrent to some point in the civilized world was essential to the 
happiness and prosperity of the Americon people, if not absol- 
utely indispensible to the perpetuity of republican institutions on 
this continent. [Great Laughter.] I felt instinctively that the 
boundless resources of that prolific region of sand and shrubbery 
would never be fully developed without a railroad constructed 
and equipped at the expense of the government, and perhaps 
not then. [Laughter.] I had an abiding presentiment that, 
some day or other, the people of this whole country, irrespect- 
ive of party affiliations, regardless of sectional prejudices, and 
*' without distinction of race, color, or previous condition of ser- 
vitude," would raise in their majesty and demand an outlet for 
the enormous agricultural products of those vast and fertile pine 
barrens, drained in the rainy season by the surging waters of 
the turbid St. Croix. [Great Laughter.] 

These impressions, derived simply and solely from the " eter 
nal fitness of things," were not strengthened by the interesting 



*&6 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

and eloquent debate on this bill r to which I listened with so- 
much pleasure the other day, but intensified, if possible, as 1 
read over this morning, the lively colloquy which took place on 
that occasion. 

The honorable gentleman from Minnesota [Mr. Wilson], 
who I believe is managing this bill, in speaking of the charac- 
ter of the country through which this railroad is to pass, says 
Ibis : 

"We want to have the timber brought to us as cheaply as 
possible. Now, if you tie up the lands in this way, so that no 
title can be obtained to them — for no settler will go on these 
lands, for he cannot make a living — you deprive us of the bene- 
fit of that timber," 

Now, sir, I would not have it by any means inferred from 
this that the gentlemen from Minnesota would insinuate that 
the people out in this section desire this timber merely for the 
purpose of fencing up their farms so that their stock may not 
wander off and die of starvation among the bleak hills of St. 
Croix. [Laughter,] I read it for no such purpose, sir, and 
made no such comments upon it myself. In corroboration of 
this statement of the gentlemen from Minnesota, I find this 
testimony given by the honorable gentleman from Wisconsin 
[Mr. Washburn.] Speaking of these same lands, he said : 

11 They are generally sandy barren lands. My friend from the 
Green Bay district (Mr. Sawyer) is himself familiar with this 
question, and he will bear me out in what I say, that these pine 
timber lands are not adapted to settlement.*' 

Now sir, who, after listening to this emphatic and unequivo- 
cal testimony of these intelligent, competent, and able bodied 
witnesses [Laughter], who that is not as incredulous as St. 
Thomas himself, will doubt but a moment, that the Goshen of 
America is to be found in the valleys and upon the pine Clad 
hills of the St. Croix ? 

Who will have the hardihood to rise in his seat on this floor 
and assert that, excepting the pine bushes, the entire region 
would not produce vegetation enough in ten years to fatten a 
grasshopper? [Great Laughter.] Where is the patriot who 



ODD HOURS. 287 

is willing that his country shall incur the peril of remaining an- 
other day without the amplest railroad connection with such an 
inexhaustible mine of agricultural wealth ? Who will answer 
for the consequences of abandoning a great and warlike people 
in possession of a country like that, to brood over the indiffer- 
ence and neglect of their Government ? How long would it be 
before they would take to studying the Declaration of Independ- 
ence and hatching out the damnable heresy of secession ? How 
long before the grim demon of civil discord would rear again 
his horrid head in our midst, " gnash loud his iron fangs and 
shake his crest of bristling bayonets?" [Laughter.] 

Then sir, think of the long and painful process of recon- 
struction that must follow with its concomitant ammendments 
to the constitution : The seventeenth, eighteenth, and nine- 
teenth articles. The sixteenth, it is of course understood, is to 
be appropriated to those blushing damsels who are, day after 
day, beseeching us to let them vote, hold office, drink cocktails, 
ride astraddle, and do everything else that men do. [Roars of 
Laughter.] But above all, sir, let me implore you to reflect a 
moment on the deplorable condition of our country in case of 
foreign war, with all our ports blockaded, all our cities in a state 
of seige, the gaunt specter of famine brooding like a hungry 
vulture over our starving land ; our commissary stores all ex- 
hausted, and our famishing armies withering away in the field, 
a helpless prey to the insatitate demon of hunger; our navy 
rotting in the dock for want of provisions for our gallant seamen 
and we without any railroad communication whatever with the 
prolific pine thickets of the St. Croix. 

Ah, sir, I could very well understand why my amiable friends 
Irom Pennsylvania [Mr. Myers, Mr. Kelly and Mr. O'Niel] 
should be so earnest in their support of this bill the other day, 
and if their honorable colleague, my triend Mr. Randall, will 
pardon the remark, I will say I considered his criticism of their 
action on that occasion as not only unjust but ungenerous. I 
knew they were looking forward with the far reaching ken of 
enlightened statesmanship to the pitiable condition in which 
Philadelphia will be unless speedilly supplied with railroad 

37 



288 UNCLE DUDLEYS 

connection in some way or other with this garden spot of the 
universe. (Laughter.) And beside, sir, this discussion has re- 
lieved my mind of a mystery that has weighed upon it like an 
incubus for years. I could never understand why there was so 
much excitement during the last Congress over the acquisition 
of Alta Vela. I could never understand why it was that some 
of our ablest statemen and most disinterested patriots should 
entertain such dark forebodings of the untold calamities that 
were to befall our beloved country unless we should take imme- 
diate possesion of that desirable island. But I see now that 
they were laboring under the mistaken impression that the Gov- 
ernment would need the guano to manure the public land on 
the St. Croix. (Laughter.) 

Now, sir, I repeat, I have been satisfied for years that if 
there was any portion of the inhabited globe absolutely in a suf- 
fering condition for want of a railroad, it was the teeming pine 
barrens of the St. Croix. At what particular point on that no- 
ble stream such a road should be commenced, I knew was im- 
material, and so it seems to have been considered by the 
draughtsman of this bill. It might be up at the spring or down 
at the foot-log, or the water-gate, or the fish- dam, or anywhere 
along the bank, no matter where. But in what direction it 
should run, or where it should terminate, were always to 
my mind questions of the most painful perplexity. I could 
conceive of no place on " God's green earth " in such straight- 
ened circumstances for railroad facilities as to be likely to de- 
sire or willing to accept such a connection. I knew that neith- 
er Bayfield nor Superior City would have it, for they both in- 
dignantly spurned the munificence of the Government when 
coupled with such ignominious conditions, and let this very 
same land grant die on their hands years and years ago, rather 
than submit to the degradation of direct communication by rail- 
road with the piney woods of the St. Croix : and I knew that 
what the enterprising inhabitants of those giant young cities re- 
fuse to take would have few charms for others, what ever their 
necessity or cupidity might be. 

Hence, as I have said, sir, I was utterly at a loss to deter- 



ODD HOURS. 289 

mine where the terminus of this great and indispensible road 
should be, until I accidently overheard some gentleman the oth- 
er day mention the name of "Duluth." (Great Laughter.) 
Duluth ! The word fell upon my ear with peculiar and inde- 
scribable charm, like the gentle raumur of a low fountain steal- 
ing forth in the midst of roses, or the soft, sweet accents of an 
angel's whisper in the bright, joyous dream of sleeping inno 
cence. 

DULUTH ! 
'Twas the name for which my soul had panted for years, 
as heart panteth for the water-brook. But where was Duluth ? 
Never in all my limited reading, had my vision been gladdened 
by seeing the celestial word in print. And I felt a profounder 
humiliation in my ignorance that its dulect syllables had never 
before ravished my delighted ear. (Roars of laughter.) I was 
certain the draughtsman of this bill had never heard of it, or it 
would have been designated as one of the terminii of this road. 
I asked my friends about it, but they knew nothing of it. I 
rushed to the library and examined all the maps I could find. 
I discovered in one of them a delicate, hair-like line diverging 
from the Mississippi near a place called Prescott, which I sup- 
posed was intended to represent the river St. Croix, but I could 
nowhere find 

DULUTH ! 
Nevertheless, I was confident that it existed somewhere, and 
that its discovery would constitute the crowning glory of the 
present century, if not of all modern times. I knew it was 
bound to exist in the very nature of things ; that the symetry 
and perfection of our planetary system would be incomplete 
without it ; that the elements of material nature would long 
since have resolved themselves back into original chaos if there 
had been such a hiatus in creation as would have resulted from 
leaving out Duluth ! (Roars of Laughter.) In fact, sir, I was 
overwhelmed with the conviction that Duluth not only existed 
somewhere, but that wherever it was, it was a great and glor- 
ious place. I was convinced that the greatest calamity that 
ever befell the benighted nations of the ancient world was in 



290 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

their having passed away without a knowledge of the actual ex- 
istence of Duluth ; that their fabled Atlantis, never seen save 
by the hallowed vision of inspired poesy, was, in fact, but an- 
other name for Duluth ; That the golden orchard of the Hes- 
perides was but a poetical synonym of the beer gardens in the 
vicinity of Duluth. I was certain that Herodotus had died a 
miserable death, because in all his travels, and with all his 
geographical research, he had never heard of Duluth. I knew 
that if the immortal spirit of Homer could look down from an- 
other heaven than that created by his own celestial genius, up- 
on the long lines of pilgrims from every nation of the earth to 
the gushing fountain of poesy opened by the touch of his magic 
wand ; if he could be permitted to behold the vast assemblage 
of grand and glorious productions of the lyric art called into be- 
ing by his own inspired strains, he would weep tears of bitter 
anguish that, instead of lavishing all the stores of his mighty 
genius upon the fall of Illion, it had not been his more blessed 
lot to crystalize in deathless song the rising glories of Duluth. 
(Great and continued laughter.) Yet, sir, had it not been for 
this map, kindly furnished me by the Legislature of Minnesota, 
I might have gone down to my obscure and humble grave in an 
agony of despair because I could nowhere find Duluth. Had 
such been my melancholy fate, I have no doubt but that, with 
the last feeble pulsation of my breaking heart, with the last 
faint exhalation of my fleeting breath, I should have whispered 
•'where is Duluth ? " (Roars of laughter.) But thanks be to the 
beneficence of that band of ministering angels who have their 
bright abodes in the far-off capital of Minnesota, just as the ag 
ony of my anxiety was about to culminate in the frenzy of des 
pair, this blessed map was placed in my hands, and as I unfold 
ed it a resplendent scene opened before me, such as I imagine 
burst upon the enraptured vision of the wandering peri through 
the opening gates of paradise. There, there, for the first time, 
my enchanted eye rested upon the ravishing word " Duluth." 

This map, sir, is intended, as it appears from its title, to 
illustrate the position of Duluth in the United States; but if 
gentlemen will examine it, I think they will concur with me in 



ODD HOURS. 291 

the opinion that it is far too modest in its pretentions. It not 
only illustrates the position of Duluth in the United States, but 
exhibits its relations with all created things. It even goes furth 
er than this. It lifts the shadowy veil of futurity and affords us 
a view of the golden prospects of Duluth far along the dim vistn 
of ages yet to come. 

If gentlemen will examine it they will find Duluth not only 
the center of the map, but represented in the center of a series 
of concentric circles one hundred miles apart, and some of a* 
much as four thousand miles in diameter, embracing alike in 
their tremendous sweep the fragrant savannas of the sunlit 
South and the eternal solitude of snow that mantles the ice- 
bound North. How these circles were produced is perhaps one 
of those primordial mysteries that the most skillful paleologists 
will never be able to explain. But the fact is sir, Duluth is pre- 
emminently a central place, for I have been told by gentlemen 
who have been so reckless of their personal safety as to venture 
away into the awful regions where Duluth is supposed to be. 
that it is so exactly in the center of the visible universe that the 
sky comes down at precisely the same distance all around it. 
(Roars of laughter.) I really cannot tell whether it is one of 
those ethereal creations of intellectual frost work, more intangi- 
ble than the rose-tinted cloud of a summer sunset : one of those 
airy exhalations of the spectator's brain which I am told are 
ever flitting in the forms of towns and cities along the lines of 
railroads built with government subsidies, luring the unwary 
settler as the mirage of the desert lures the famishing traveler 
on, until it fades away in the darkening horizon, or whether 
it is a real, bona fide, substantial city, all " staked off," with 
the lots marked with their owners names like that proud com- 
mercial metropolis recently discovered on the desirable shores 
of San Domingo. But, however that may be, I am satisfied 
Duluth is there, or there about, for I see it stated here on this 
map that it is exactly thirty-nine hundred and ninety miles from 
Liverpool, though I have no doubt, for the sake of convenience, 
it will be moved back ten miles, so as to make the distance an 
even four thousand. (Laughter.) Then, sir, there is the clim- 



292 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

ate of Duluth, unquestionably the most salubrious and delight- 
ful to be found anywhere on the Lord's earth. Now, I have 
always been under the impression, as I presume other gentle- 
men have, that in the region around Lake Superior, it was cold 
enough for at least nine months in the year to freeze the smoke, 
stack off a locomotive, (Great laughter.) But I see it repre- 
sented on this map that Duluth is situated exactly half way be- 
tween the latitudes of Paris and Venice, so that gentlemen who 
Have inhaled the exbilerating airs of the one or basked in the 
golden sunlight of the other, may see at a glance that Duluth 
must be a place of untold delights j a terrestrial paradise fanned 
by the balmy zephyrs of an eternal spring, clothed in the gor- 
geous sheen of ever-blooming flowers, and vocal with the melo- 
dy of Nature's choicest songsters. In fact, sir, since I have 
seen this map I have no doubt that Byron was vainly endeavor- 
ing to convey some faint conception of the delicious charms of 
Duluth when his poetic soul gushed forth in the rippling strains 
of that beautiful raphsody — 

Know ye the land of the cedar and pine, 
Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine, 
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume, 
Wax taint o'er the gardens of Gul in her bloom ; 
Where the citrons and olives are fairest of fruit, 
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ; 
Where the tints of the earth and the hues of the sky, 
In color, though varied, in beauty may vie ? 

[Laughter,] 

As to the commercial resources of Duluth sir, they are sim- 
ply illimitable, and inexhaustible, as is shown by this map. I 
see it stated here that a vast scope of territory, embracing an 
area of 3,000,000 square miles, rich in every element of materi- 
al wealth and commercial prosperity all tributary to Duluth. 
Look at it sir, (pointing to the map). Here are inexhaustible 
mines of gold, immeasurable mines of silver, impenetrable 
depths of boundless forests, vast coal measures, wide extended 
plains of richest pasturage, all, all embraced in this vast terri- 
tory, which must, in the very nature of things, empty the un- 
told treasures of its commerce into the lap of Duluth. Look at 



ODD HOURS. 2g3 

It, sir (pointing to the map); do you see, from these broad, 
brown lines drawn around this immense territory, that the en 
terpnsing inhabitants of Duluth intend some day to enclose i< 
all in one vast corral, so that its commerce will be bound to go 
there, whether it would or not. [Great Laughter.] And here 
sir, (still pointing to the map), I find within a convenient dis- 
tance the Piegan Indians, which of all the accessories to the 
glory of Duluth, I consider by far the most estimable. For sir 
I have been told that when the small-pox breaks out among the 
women and children of that famous tribe, as it sometimes does, 
they afford the finest subject in the world for the strategetica! 
experiments, and any enterprising military hero who desires to 
improve himself in the noble art of war, especially for any li eu - 
tenant general whose 

"Trenchant blade, Toledo trusty, 
For want of fighting has grown rusty : 
And eats into itself for lack 
Of something to hew and hack." 
[Great Laughter.] 

Sir, the great conflict now raging in the Old World has 
presented a phenomenon in military operations unprecedented 
in the annals of mankind, a phenomenon that has reversed all 
traditions of the past as it has disappointed all the expectations 
of the present. A great and warlike people, renowned alike for 
their skill and valor, have been swept away before the triumph- 
ant advance of an inferior foe, like autumn stubble before a 
hurricane of fire. For aught I know, the next flash of electric 
tire that simmers along the ocean cable may tell us that Paris 
with every fibre quivering with the agony of impotent despair, 
writhes beneath the conquering heels of her cursed invader. 
Ere another moon shall wax and wane the brightest star in the 
galaxy of nations may fall from the zenith of her glory, never to 
rise again. Ere the modest violets of early spring shall ope 
their beauteous eyes, the genius of civilization may chant the 
waihng requiem of the proudest nationality the world has ever 
seen as she scatters her withered and tear-moistened lillies o'er 
the bloody tomb of butchered France. But, sir, I wish to a«k 



294 UNCLE DUDLEY'S 

if you honestly and candidly believe that the Dutch would have 
overrun the French in that kind of style if Gen. Sheridan hat* 
not gone over there and told King William and Von Moltke 
how he had managed to whip the Piegan Indians. [Great 
Laughter.] 

[Here the hammer fell.] 

[Many cries, "Go on I " ** Go on I "J 

The Speaker — Is there any objection to the gentleman from 
Kentucky continuing his remarks? The chair hears none. The 
gentleman will proceed. 

Mr. Knott : I was remarking, sir, upon these vast "wheat 
fields/' represented on this map in the immediate neighborhood 
of the buffaloes and the Piegans, and was about to say that the 
idea of there being these immense wheat fields in the very 
heart of the wilderness hundreds of miles beyond the verge of 
civilization, may appear to some gentlemen rather incongruous 
— as rather too great a strain on the "blanket" of veracity. 
But, to my mind, there is no difficulty whatever. The phenom- 
enon is very easily accounted for. It is evident, sir, that the 
Piegans sowed that wheat there and plowed it with buffalo 
bulls. [Great Laughter.] Now, sir, this fortunate combination 
of buffaloes and Piegans, considering their relative posititions 
to each other and to Duluth, as they are arranged on this map, 
satisfies me that Duluth, is destined to be the beef market of the 
world. 

Here, you will observe, (pointing to the map), are the buf- 
faloes, directly between the Piegans and Duluth, and here, right 
on the road to Duluth, are the Creeks. Now, sir, when the 
buffaloes are sufficiently fat from grazing upon these immense 
wheat fields, you see it will be the easiest thing in the world for 
the Piegans to drive them on down, stay all night with their 
friends, the Creeks, and go into Duluth in the morning. 
[Great Laughter.] I think I see them now, sir, a vast herd of 
buffaloes, with their heads down, their eyes glaring, their nos- 
trils dilated, their tongues out, and their tails curled over their 
backs, tearing along towards Duluth, with about a thousand 
Piegans on their grass-bellied ponies yelling at their heels ! 



ODD HOURS. ^95 

[Great Laughter. ] On they come ! And as they sweep past 
the Creeks they join in the chase and away they all go, yelling, 
bellowing, ripping and tearing along amid clouds of dust, un- 
til the last buffalo is safely penned in the stock yards of Duluth. 
[Shouts of laughter.] 

Sir, I might stand here for hours and hours, and expatiate 
with rapture upon the gorgeous prospects of Duluth as depicted 
upon this map. But human life is too short, and the time of 
this House is far too valuable to allow me to linger any longer 
upon the delightful theme. [Laughter.] I think every gentle- 
man on this floor is as well satisfied as I am that Duluth is des- 
tined to become the commercial metropolis of the universe, and 
that this road should be built at once. I am fully persuaded 
that no patriotic representative of the American people, who 
has a proper appreciation of the associated glories of Duluth 
and the St. Croix, will hesitate a moment to say that every able- 
bodied female in the land between the ages of eighteen and for- 
ty-five who is in favor of " women's rights" should be drafted 
and set to work upon this great work without delay. [Roars of 
Laughter.] Nevertheless, sir, it grieves my very soul to be 
compelled to say that I cannot vote for the grant of lands pro- 
vided for in this bill. 

Ah ! sir, you can have no conception of the poignancy of 
my anguish that I am deprived of the blessed privilege ! 
[Laughter.] There are two insuperable obstacles in the way. 
In the first place my Constituents, for whom I am acting here, 
have no more interest in this road than they have in the great 
question of culinary taste now. perhaps agitating the public 
mind of Dominica, as to whether the illustrious commissioners 
who recently left this capital for that free and enlightened re- 
public would be better fricasseed, boiled or roasted ; [great 
laughter] and in the second place, these lands, which I am 
asked to give away, alas, are not mine to bestow ! My relation 
to them is simply that of trustee to an express trust. And shall 
1 ever betray that trust ? Never, sir ! Rather perish Duluth ! 
[Shouts of Laughter.] Perish the paragon of cities! Rather 



^ 9 6 



UNCLE DUDLEY'S 



let the freezing cyclones of the bleak northwest bury it forever 
beneath the eddying sands of the St. Croix! [Great Laugh- 



Affectionately yours, 




"Uncle Dudley." 



THE END. 



